Briar Rose
by TheGuardianKnux
Summary: Matthew Williams was excited; he was finally going to the academy of his dreams, Rosa Academy. But, when he runs into an odd looking student, his life will never be the same. Francis Bonnefoy was unlike any other student Matthew would ever meet. He seemed to be frightened by the thorny flora that climbed the castle walls, and ice cold. Would an explanation be worth the price?
1. Finding Francis: The Mystery Begins

**Author's Note: Thank you for opening this collaboration of a fan fiction! We really appreciate you taking the time to read and review. ^^ I'm TheGuardianKnux, and with my good friend, Annzy Bananzy, we are proud to present to you, this fan fiction!  
**  
It was a clear, warm day as Matthew gazed up at the towering buildings ahead with a sense of pride and a happy smile. He was absolutely _thrilled _at the prospect of finally attending the school of his dreams: Rosa Academy, school for the gifted.  
Many people, _great_ people, had walked the halls he was about to walk now. For years upon years this strong threshold of knowledge had stood, and he was about to step foot right into the crimson carpeted halls just as the brochure had said! He couldn't believe he -  
"Mister, I'm hungry..."  
… Had forgotten to feed his bear...

"I'm sorry, Kumi," he apologized quietly. "We'll go and find you some food right away."

The bear looked up at him curiously with glassy, black eyes that were rather unnerving to some. "Who are you, again?" he asked almost as quietly as himself.

Matthew sighed dejectedly and looked up to the sky. "I'm Matthew Williams," he stated, "your owner. And proud student of Rosa Academy."  
Gazing down the trodden cobblestone pathway, he gave a tranquil sigh and started up again, imaging a swelling, dramatic orchestrated score as he did so. Today would be the day, he imagined, a small smile conjuring back upon his slightly delicate features as his boots connected against worn stone. Today, he would no longer be just some dorky kid with hopes and dreams too big for his britches. Today he could _become _someone. Today, he could make note of himself like thousands of others had before him!  
He had to thank his kind mother, really. He knew it was hard work raising a child by yourself, but he prided himself with at least being rather well behaved and mature for his age. And, luckily, it had paid off. He and his valiant mother had raised enough money, and pushed his studies hard enough to win him a prepaid scholarship! Oh, his heart had soared when he received confirmation that morning. And after a few months of packing and prepping, he had finally made his way for what he hoped would be an enjoyable experience ahead.  
Those were the emotions and memories surging through him as he stopped once more to gaze up at the towering complex of stone and stained glass. The place looked magnificent, almost unbearably so, what with its many tall towers and the healthy, green ivy climbing its slightly worn surfaces. Many other fixtures, such as chilling gargoyles peering over the roof and an old-fashioned bell tower, added an almost gothic, yet fairytale atmosphere to the environment.

Although he couldn't see it from the front, he had also heard about the splendorous garden out back with tall hedges and proud, famous bushes of roses. This was one of the most notable and famous features about the school: its abundance of flowers. Between dashes of peonies, sunflowers, marigolds, poppies, or chrysanthemums were roses. Many roses of all different shades, hues, and patterns were known to dot the courtyards, hallways, classrooms, and tall towers of the school. The _crest _was a rose, even! And, the most obvious of all, the school's name meant rose in Latin.

That's what mystified and intrigued Matthew the most about the whole school: the roses. Roses weren't exactly the easiest flowers to take care of. His Mother's own bushes weren't that hearty after all, so how was it that during each and every season these roses continued to blooms every year without fail?  
And why make it the school's flower of choice? To him, roses were an alright flower, but they had thorns. Wouldn't that mean you were symbolizing that your school was more like... a barred fortress, of some sort? Maybe to the outside world, at least? That was an unusual message for a school to send. Why would you want to keep everyone out? Usually schools like to enroll everyone they can.  
Maybe he was reading too deep into things. After all, it was just a motif, right? What could be so mystifying about a flower, anyways?  
Still standing inside the gate fixture, these thoughts continued to mystify him. Trying to shrug off his "over imaginative" mind, he started to walk forward when-  
"_Ooof!"_

The next minute the wind was knocked out of him, and he was sprawled, thankfully, in the grass. With someone right on top of him!  
Luckily, as he opened his eyes and tried to breath a little bit of oxygen back into his lungs, he realized his glasses had not been broken and he got a good gaze at who he was looking at-

… A... Boy?  
Right on top of them, groaning slightly, was the body of a rather lanky and feminine-looking person of indefinite gender, who didn't seem to weigh all that much. Their hair was a rather nice shade of golden blonde that flowed in waves. And, as to what his hand accidently felt, it seemed to go all the way down to their tailbone. Some locks in the front seemed parted to the left, framing their face. Also, coincidently enough, they had an odd hair curl as well, just like him! It wasn't looped, but it seemed to flow straight out and curl at the bottom. He imagined if this person had shorter hair and glasses, they could be mirror doubles.

But what really got his attention was their eyes. Wide, curious, and slightly surprised oceanic eyes that gleamed with... Excitement? Curiousity? Mischief? He couldn't be sure. And before he had a chance to find out, the person spoke curiously:  
"Bonjour? Do I know you?"  
Well, that made one thing more obvious. Their voice seemed lower than a girl's, so this person must be male. Right?

"Um..." Matthew answered, still investigating him a little, "No, I... I just got here."  
Eyes widening, his vast blue eyes seemed to alight with an odd sort of fire as they replied cheerfully, "New!? Oh! How exciting!"  
"... Th-thanks," he said, smiling weakly, not sure how else to respond. "Perhaps you could get off of me, now?"

Blinking at him for a moment, the other boy looked down and then bolted up, almost in a flash, and laughed sheepishly. "I guess I ran straight into you, didn't I?" Extending a hand, he offered it to Matthew, a kind smile on his face, "Here, let me help you."

"Thank you," Matthew replied, returning the smile as he took his hand. Finding, strangely, that it was extremely cold; almost like a block of ice.

The other boy then noticed his polar bear and at first gave a curious look, then his expression faltered for a second, as if processing something. Shifting his observant gaze, its intensity soon melted into that one of curiosity and excitement as he asked, "Are you Matthieu Williams?!"

Shocked to a certain degree, Matthew responded hesitantly, "Yes, how... how do you know about me?" He hadn't expected anyone to know him yet; he had just arrived a few minutes ago, after all! And it wasn't like he was famous or anything, so how...?  
"Vous..." the boy murmured, in what sounded like French for a minute, before it seemed that he had connected the dots. Yelping in surprise, Matthew felt himself hugged tightly as the slightly shorter blonde squealed happily, "I knew it! I don't know how it took me this long to figure it out! I mean, I'm pretty sure Arthur showed me your picture and all-"

"Arthur?" Matthew interrupted. "Who's Arthur? I don't recognize anyone with that name..." His mind started racing as he struggled to recall anyone by the name of Arthur, but his mind was completely blank. He definitely had no idea who this person was, so how did he know him? And have his picture?!  
Pausing, he gave a slightly funny look then chuckled, replying, "Oh, just a friend of mine. Rather gaudy eyebrows that look like the my caterpillar friends out in the courtyard." Shaking his head, making his tresses of hair bounce, he seemed to refocus himself as he replied quickly, "Anyways, what I was saying was, you're my roommate!"

"Oh!" Matthew exclaimed, relief filling him. That must be how he knew whom he was; obviously, this Arthur person must be on the school committee or something, and he had shown this man a picture of him since they'd be sharing a room. "Well, it's nice to meet you, ah..." he stopped as he realized he didn't know his own roommate's name. Talk about unprepared...  
Blinking rapidly for a moment, he asked in confusion, "Pardon -? Oh, wait!" chuckling, he adjusted himself and quickly kissed both of Matthew's cheeks in greeting and replied smoothly, almost like a purr, "My name is Francis Bonnefoy~"

"O-oh..." Matthew stumbled, blushing slightly from the usual French greeting since he wasn't used to it. "That's a nice name..."  
Gazing at his blush curiously, Francis asked in confusion, "Que-? Are you not French Canadian?"

"W-well," Matthew started, thinking to himself how unfair it seemed that he already knew his nationality as well - it's not like someone is obviously Canadian, unless they tattoo a maple leaf to their forehead. "I grew up near a French town, but my mother never really let me, er, interact with them, saying... um, rather mean things about them, that I'd rather not repeat."

Francis stared, eerily unblinking for a while till he bursted out into a fountain of tinkling, unusual laughter, "Ohonhonhonhon~! That is because you have not met _true_ French people!" he then placed a hand to his chin, pondering something for a moment till he deducted, "You're originally from Ontario, aren't you."

"... Yes..." Matthew replied mousily, finding it kind of creepy now just how much he knew about him.  
Sensing the unnerved vibe radiating from the other teen, Francis gave a sheepish look and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Sorry if that kind of freaked you out, it's just I've read books upon books about Canada before..." he then smiled and mused, "Rather interesting place, even though you can't venture all that up North..." His eyes shadowed slightly as he gazed past Matthew for a moment, "Maybe someday I could actually visit Quebec and try their Poutine..."  
"Oh!" Matthew said, his eyes lighting up. "I love poutine! My mother would make it all the time for me, especially if I was sick." He hugged Kumaijirou tighter to his chest and smiled brightly before adding, "It always warmed me up."

Feeling himself torn from his darkened gaze, Francis' slightly faltering smile brightened as he replied joyfully, "Vraiment-? How delightful!" his gaze became warmer as he replied, almost nostalgically, "My Mother would always cheer me up with blueberry crepes," he then took Matthew by the shoulders and shifted his hair out of his eyes slightly, "In fact, she taught me a lot about cooking!"

"As did my mother," Matthew told him, tilting his head slightly. "Maybe we can swap recipes, and I could make poutine for you."

"You would-" the realization hitting him, his eyes sparkled happily as he hugged Matthew suddenly, dramatic tears streaming from his eyes, "Oh merci! Merci! You are such a kind fellow, Matthieu!"

Finding it a little hard to breathe from the tight hug, the Canadian boy just laughed weakly. "I'm, really not..." he could only whisper as his lungs felt like giving out. And, again, he noticed how cold the other felt. It was a fairly sunny day, so he shouldn't feel so chilled like this; it was starting to make him shiver, even.

The French boy didn't seem to notice as he shifted to give Matthew a stubborn look as he argued, a slight pout on his pale rose lips, "Non! You are very kind, I mean, you talked to me instead of avoiding me-" His speech cut off abruptly, and he turned almost as stiff as a statue, which almost seemed to match his temperature.

"... Why would I avoid you?" Matthew asked quietly, after it seemed like he wasn't going to say any more anytime soon. "You're my roommate, after all. It seems kind of silly to try and avoid someone you'll be sleeping next to."

Slowly he shifted his widened gaze over to Matthew and gave a strained laugh, making the other shiver slightly, "Pardon-? I meant nothing of what I said-"

"Help," came a small, whispery voice from between them.

Matthew's eyes widened. "Kumi!-!" he yelled, pushing against Francis. "He's trapped! Let him out!-!"  
Scrambling from the two, he gave a frightened, almost feral look as he replied quickly, "I-I'm sorry!" Eyes darting every which way, he backed up, almost as if in fear that Matthew would retaliate with violence.

Instead, however, the boy simply held up his dear pet and looked him over for any possible injuries. "I'm so sorry!" he apologized. "Do you feel okay?"

The animal just stared back at him with the same big, glossy, black eyes as he always had, not speaking for a second of anticipating silence. Then, he replied lowly, "I'm fine. Who are you, again?"

Matthew bowed his head in subdued anger and disappointment before replying, as he always does, "I'm Matthew..." He started to think, for the millionth time, that he should have Kumi checked for short-term memory loss, since it seemed he could never remember. It was kind of upsetting sometimes.

Francis stared for a moment at the bear, his heart racing as his gaze shifted to Matthew and his pulse slowed considerably, making him sigh in relief. Going over towards Matthew, he commented sympathetically, "It's alright, I've done that to some of my one hundred and fifty doves before."

"You have?" Matthew asked, almost relieved, blowing some hair out of his eyes. "But do you do it multiple times every day?"

Giving a sheepish laugh, he replied, "Um-uh, no... Sometimes with my chickens, I guess, or my caterpillars..." he then pondered for a second, "Although some of the roses in the Eastern half of the courtyard have been getting on my case about that, along with the hedgehogs..."

"... What?" Matthew asked incredulously, taking a subconscious step back. "You... talk to roses? And hedgehogs, and chickens and..." he stared at this odd boy in a new light, trying to piece together a basic idea of him with the information he had.

Before, he had mentioned something about being ignored, so... maybe everyone ignores him here, so he talks to animals and plants? But why would they ignore him? He seems like a nice person. Maybe everyone ignores him _because _he talks to animals and plants? That seemed more likely, but even then some people would still talk to him, since some might actually enjoy that aspect in a friend.  
Being ripped out of his thinking process, he saw Francis' eyes widen as he replied quickly," I-I- uh, heheh, um, well you see, the horses in the stable always tend to-" he then shook his head, cursing in French as he lost his train of thought and gave a slightly embarrassed look, stammering quickly and trying to explain, "Well you see, I've lived here my whole life and I know all my nature friends really well and-"

Matthew interrupted with a nervous chuckle, feeling a little guilty for making him so defensive. If he liked to talk to animals, then that was fine - he had a few qualities that might be considered "weird" as well, so he really shouldn't have said anything. "You know what? It's fine. I was just a little surprised about the roses, mainly..."  
Paling at the mentions of talking to roses, his eyes flickered nervously as he replied quietly, "R-Right, the roses... They-I-" he shivered and gave a slightly frightened glance up at the crawling roses above them on one of the balconies. "Th-they're everywhere, aren't they?" he asked, trying almost desperately to change the subject.

"Yeah," Matthew said, nodding. He wondered briefly why he was acting so nervous, but wrote it off as him just feeling a little insecure about his hobby. "That's one of the things I love about this school! Hey, since you talk to them, do you know how they manage to grow all year long?"

Another shiver passed through Francis as he fiddled with his bundle of locks anxiously, backing himself up against a tree and replying shakily, "T-They do because-because-" he clenched his hair slightly and curled up inwardly, squeezing his eyes shut in fear.

A wave of guilt crashed into Matthew as he realized just how much his question had troubled the man, even if he wasn't sure why. "S-sorry..." Matthew said quietly, holding Kumi up to hide some of his face. "I didn't mean to make you so... upset, I was just curious, that's all."

Opening his eyes quickly, Francis staggered over to him with an uneasy laugh as he replied, "Que-? I am-I'm not bothered," his tone sounding slightly forced as he continued, "They just grow b-because they are well, heh, su-" his gaze darkened considerably, "... Supplied."

Noticing Francis' sudden change in mood, he asked, a little alarmed, "S-supplied?"

Feeling as though if cold waves were being echoed out from him, he nodded, shifting his hair over his eyes and replying quietly, "I tend to them well."

"All of them?!" Matthew asked, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. "By yourself?-? How on earth do you do that?"

Shifting his hands to be seen visibly, he showed them to be wrapped heavily in bandages as he replied, not looking up, "It's a... Lengthy process. Terribly boring, non?"

"Not at all!" Matthew disagreed with a shake of his head and a smile. "I don't think it would be boring. Maybe I could help you sometimes, though, if you're getting a little tired of it -"

"Non!" Francis interjected sharply, giving a panicked look as he locked eyes with Matthew, his pupils dilated, "You-you don't want to -"

"Sure I would," Matthew replied, tilting his head slightly. He didn't really understand why he was so nervous... He was acting almost as if taking care of the roses would bring him harm. Maybe he was just afraid he'd be poked by thorns? "I've helped my mom with her rosebush before, so I know how to avoid thorns, if you're worried about that. Though obviously there weren't as many as here..."  
Shaking again, he quickly went over and tugged at Matthew's uniform jacket, making the other notice that the other boy's own royal purple jacket wasn't on and that he was only wearing the sweater along with some plaid dress pants, yet... No... Shoes or socks... "Non, Matthieu, you don't understand -"

"What are you boys doing standing out in the courtyard?" a gruff, older voice interrupted their conversation.

Francis turned and gave a stricken look, hugging himself and clamping his mouth shut as he searched for source of the voice.

Matthew also turned to look at the new figure - a neatly-dressed, tall, blonde man with black reading glasses and a stern look on his face.

"Well?" he started, "Are you boys going to give me an answer?"

"S-sorry..." Matthew mumbled, "I was just talking to my roommate."

Startled, Francis replied quickly with a nervous look, "Monsieur, I was just about to take him inside to get settled in before we all went down to dinner-"

"Perhaps someone else would be better suited for that job," the imposing figure commented. Was it just Matthew, or did he seem rather... perturbed at the sight of Francis?

Giving an openly dejected look he argued, "But Monsieur, he is my roommate, and-"

"Not another word," the man, whom Matthew was starting to suspect, was a teacher, interrupted. "Come along, young one," he addressed the Canadian, "I'll find you a better tour guide."

"But..." Matthew started glancing at Francis. "I - I want Francis to show me around, I've already gotten to know him quite well, so -"

"I'm sorry," the man interrupted, "but I'm afraid I cannot allow that."  
"Why not?"

He seemed taken back by his question. "Because..." he started glancing between the two. An awkward silence stretched over them before he cleared his throat and said, "Because he is not a student leader - it is their job to show all new students around."

"Que-" Francis' eyes widened and then narrowed as he marched up to the teacher, fuming slightly as he argued, feeling insulted, "Non! It is not!" giving a haughty huff, he replied with a flick of his hair, "I am more than qualified to be his tour guide! I know this school like the back of my hand Monsieur!"

"P, please, sir," Matthew spoke up, looking at him. "I'm, um, a little shy around new people, so it'd be a great help for me if I could just have Francis show me around, instead of having to meet someone else..."

The distressed-looking teacher looked between the two before letting out a sigh and fixing his glasses, regaining some of his composure. "Fine, then. I will allow it, I suppose..."

Nodding in satisfaction, Francis flicked his hair and stuck his tongue out at the teacher, whipping around with a snort and taking Matthew by the shoulder and steering him towards an opening inside the building.

Unfortunately, the teacher wasn't done yet. He grabbed Matthew by his other shoulder and pulled him aside to say one last thing: "A wise word from me to you," he whispered in his ear, "Don't get too close to Francis."

Matthew would have asked why, but just like that, he had turned around and fast-walked away, almost as if he couldn't get out of there fast enough.

Francis seemed to shrug it off, though Matthew noticed his grip tightening as he led him inside, his smile cracked as he announced, "And here is one of the many entryways I know~"

"Francis," Matthew said solemnly. "Why... why was he acting like that?"

Stiffening, his hold tightened considerably as he gave a very strained and forced laugh. Ignoring his comment, he gestured over to a grand staircase and explained in an uneasy, fake-sounding, cheery tone, "And here is the main staircase! Oh, you'll love the mahogany handrails, they're so much fun to slide down, and-"

"Francis," Matthew tried again, his tone causing the other to cringe. "Seriously, what... what's going on? Is there something I should know?" Everything, ever since he's met this blonde boy who talks to the roses, has just confused him. His behavior when asked about the roses, for one, not to mention that teacher just now, and simply his air... it was turning into a giant mystery, and one that he wanted to solve. Or at least know about.

Releasing Matthew's shoulder, Francis' eyes flickered back and forth as he visibly shook, running his fingers through his locks and backing away slightly. A hysterical smile now tugging at his lips, his eyes widened as he replied shakily, "M-Matthieu, I-I just realized the time! We ought to be going to-to bed! I-" he paused and forced out through now gritted teeth, "I must have forgot about dinner- guess it's six o'clock, not seven. Sorry about that-"

Biting his bottom lip, Matthew looked down at the floor, tightening his grip on his silent pet. "Is... There's something wrong? Or can I not be trusted? Or..." he chuckled nervously before looking up with a weak smile. "On second thought, I am pretty tired. Where's our room?" He tried to shove the fact that he hadn't eaten since 10am that morning out of his mind, realizing that for some reason or another; Francis was not going to tell him anything. Which means, if he was going to solve this mystery, he was going to have to talk to some new people...

Oh dear... looks like he needed to tap into his barely existing social skills... Well, what did he expect, coming to a school like Rosa Academy - that he could just stay up in his room and study all the time? Of course not.

Francis, still paling considerably, took him by the shoulder with a still uneasy laugh as he replied shakily, "S-sure! I'll make you a snack when we get up to our room, up in the Western tower if I recall correctly-"

"The one with the most roses," Matthew mumbled to himself, barely audibly. But, somehow, Francis heard him anyways.

The blonde quivered and answered, "O-Oui, lovely," he complimented forcefully, "I-isn't it? Well, we better get going if we want to make it up there before midnight, mon amou-ami!" he corrected, a slight blush peppering his pale cheek bones.

Tilting his head slightly, Matthew simply replied, "Ah, right..." He ran over Francis' last words in his head. Despite not having much contact with true Frenchmen, he had heard the term "amour" plenty of times before, and knew what it meant quite well. Why did he start to say that...? Was he just used to it? But if he's lived here all his life, and everyone seems to ignore him, why would "amour" be something he's so used to saying? Just more to add to the mystery, he supposed.

Francis shook himself and guided Matthew up the staircase quickly and to their right, beginning a slightly lengthy journey down carpeted halls.

All through the walk, Matthew kept churning today's events in his head, trying to at least make sense of _something_. But it seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make heads nor tails of anything that had happened. The only thing he knew for certain was that, for some odd reason, the roses made Francis incredibly wary, even though he tended to him, and that he was supposed to stay away from him, according to that one teacher they had encountered. But the _why_, to all of these questions and more, was still a very important variable, and one that Matthew wanted to find out. Francis wasn't going to tell him anything, so maybe others would. People usually like to gossip, right?

Eventually, they arrived at their destination. It surprised Matthew as he gazed at the heavy, tall, oak double doors with widened eyes. It wasn't the size that surprised him, but the roses tangled and growing on them... And the cobwebs, draped in its corners and over the knob itself. The room looked... Unopened... Unused...

"This is our room?" he asked, turning to Francis to see a slight frown on his face.

Noticing his gaze, Francis rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and explained hastily, "Well, your luggage arrived in here a while ago, and usually I sleep in the library when I manage to sleep at all-"

"Why?" Matthew interjected curiously, hoping that for goodness' sakes he'd at least tell him _that _much.

Blinking, Matthew noticed Francis' own protruding curl quiver uncomfortably, like the rest of the nerves in the other boy's body as he explained quickly, "Well, sometimes I have bouts of insomnia and when you want unnecessary teasing to stop once in awhile..."

"You put up with a lot, don't you?" Matthew asked as he wiped away some of the cobwebs from the door.

Shivering, he objected quickly, shaking his hands, "N-non, it-it is nothing-" Matthew heard a slight sniffle behind said words as Francis tried to ramble on an excuse.

"How can it be nothing?" Matthew almost mumbled as he struggled to turn the door handle. It was a little stuck from so many obvious years of disuse. "Being bullied or ignored is never "nothing" - ah!" The door finally opened, but he had put so much force into it that he fell to the floor once there was nothing stopping him from doing so.

Francis turned around in surprise, eyes wide with concern. Matthew happened to notice that his eyes were slightly dampened before the strange boy wiped them away and lended a hand to pull Matthew up.

"Here, sorry about getting you in situations that force you to the floor," he apologized, a small smile playing at his lips.

"That's all right," Matthew saw, dusting himself off as Kumaijirou padded into the room. "I'm used to getting dirty, I suppose."

Nodding, Francis gave a slight shudder and a look of displeasure, "So am I when I tend to the hedgehog burrows or the fertilizer. Ugh," he shook his head, sticking his tongue out in disgust, "As much as I love nature, I'm really not one who likes to remain dirty."

"Yeah, I kind of got that," Matthew said with a chuckle before walking in and looking around. The insides were just as dirty as the door, much to his displeasure. The dust in the room was starting to itch his nose, and he sneezed once before sniffling and telling his roommate, "Since you don't like to remain dirty, how about helping me clean up a bit?"

Francis gave a grin and nodded happily, replying, "I would love to, although I'm sure its only the entryway," he took Matthew's hand, grasping it tightly in his own as he led him towards the bedroom of their "flat."

He gasped as soon as he saw the room; it was everything he had expected from Rosa Academy and more.

The bedroom was circular, consisting of cool stone that looked clean and polished. On one half of the room there was a small indentation in the wall, like an enlarged window seal. It was cushioned, providing a spot for one to sit and stare out of the window it was lined against, basking in the sun or possibly to take a short nap. Many fur rugs made out of various animal skins lined the cold stone floor, ensuring that one would always have a soft spot to place their feet. A wooden dresser held, presumably, their clothing, while a vanity was positioned opposite of it. A door on the opposite end of the bedroom's door held the bathroom. What was really suspicious, though, was that this was the only room in their flat... and there was only one bed..

Matthew could tell it was Francis', because it was covered with embroidered quilts and patched up comforters, along with some comfy looking pillows and a few stuffed animals.

"This is really nice," he commented, looking around, "but, um... where do I sleep?"

Francis noticed his gaze, directed at the bed in confusion, making his brows rise. Blushing slightly, he squeezed Matthew's hand and replied quietly, "If you don't mind, you could, um-um share the bed with me..."

Matthew stared at him for a second before a light blush arose to his cheeks. "Ah..." he started, carefully working his hand out of Francis' grasp. "I, I - uh, don't really feel com-comfortable with that... I'll, I'll just sleep by the window, maybe? Yeah, why not..."

Francis gave a visibly hurt look and tried to hide behind his hair, curling and uncurling his hand, longing to have someone hold it.

For around the third time that day, Matthew felt guilt crash into him like the stormy waves upon the beach. How many times was he going to say something to make this man crawl back into a shell? It was obvious he hadn't had a roommate before, and maybe he's never had a friend before, either... he probably just wants to be close to someone, finally. And why _not _be close with your roommate?

"Er..." Matthew mumbled gently taking his hand again, "On second thought, it'd be warmer, uh, on the bed, I suppose..."

**Author's Note, TheGuardianKnux: Thank you so much for reading this! I suggest you all check out my other stories or Annzy's works as well! She is a fantastic authoress, and I love working with her! ^^ Thank you, and please review!**

Author's Note, Annzy: Annzy says she apologies for how Matthew is written, but I think she's being overly hard on herself! XD So let's make her feel welcomed, ok? XD And she also says she loves you all like people love kittens and teddy bears, which is very much! XD

Anyways, enjoy and review and chapter two will becoming very soon! :D


	2. The Sword Not From the Stone

Matthew awoke with a start as he heard a resounding _crash_ sound through his and Francis' room. He turned to his roommate with a start, noticing that the other turned incredibly pale. "Oh no..." the blonde muttered right before an insanely angry, British voice called:

"All right, you bloody frog! You weren't in the library, so I know you must be here! Did you forget about our morning meeting _again?!_"

"Quick! You must hide me!" Francis told Matthew as he scrambled out of bed, quickly buttoning up a loose shirt he was wearing that barely went to his knees, Matthew having found out last night that Francis didn't seem to like having to wear a lot clothing... Nor know what personal space was, seeing as he had snuggled close to Matthew and fell asleep while cuddling his arm.

"From what?" Matthew asked, getting out of the warm bed regrettably. "Who is that?"

"_There you are_," the new voice announced, now sounding much closer.

Francis yelped a little and bit his lip as Matthew turned around to look at the person in their room. He was just a little shorter than Matthew, about Francis' height, with thick, dense eyebrows and short, messy blonde hair. He was dressed in the standard Rosa uniform, including the royal purple jacket that Francis didn't seem to enjoy wearing, and the shoes, which the blonde also never wore apparently.

"I thought we agreed to meet precisely at 7am _today!_" he said as he stalked towards Francis. "Not 8am, not _10_am, and certainly not _tomorrow_."

"I-I- well," he stammered, playing with his locks and giving a nervous laugh, "Well, I kind of got sidetracked and forgot-"

"No more excuses!" he interrupted with a yell, pointing at him accusingly. "May I remind you that we have these meetings to _help_ you! And you can't even be bothered to show up!?"

Giving a frustrated look, he snapped and glared back, "Well, then why aren't they doing anything?! Why do I still have to keep going down there at midnight!" He then pointed at his chest, anger increasing, "And why am I still a scabbard!?"

Matthew was confused by the whole ordeal; what were they talking about? Why did they have meetings? Where did he have to go at midnight? And what did he mean by scabbard?!

The stranger in their room was just silent for a minute, his anger seeming to decrease immensely. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his eyes closed as he said, "Because, this is tricky business. It's not like..." he opened his eyes and glared again before saying in a much darker tone, "Well, maybe if you showed up on time we'd have more time and have solved something by now."

Rolling his eyes, he turned with a huff and replied sarcastically, "Oh, really, because of course, my attendance will obviously return the memories you told me I've lost because of the curse."

_Curse?_ Matthew thought to himself curiously. _What is he talking about?!_ None of this was making any sense! But unfortunately, he didn't get to ask as Francis turned back around with tears in his eyes, his voice becoming shakier as he continued to rant, pulling down the front of his shirt and revealing a blade connected to the handle of a sword protruding out of his chest. Which, of course, frightened Matthew and almost made him feel like fainting. "And, evidently, you'll cure me so I don't have to be some sort of stupid prize to be sought after because I hold a powerful, cursed artifact inside me! We all know it's hopeless," he yelled, tears spilling out as he continued to vent. "You'll never figure out anything!"

"Funny," the Brit spat, his eye starting to twitch. He was getting a little tired of Francis' never-ending pity party full of drama and _nothing_ productive. He should at least _try_ to be hopeful! He certainly was! "I seem to remember a time when you couldn't have been happier to be offered a little help for your predicament!" He seethed quietly through his teeth. "And, furthermore, Francis, your attendance makes all the difference because I need to see certain things about your body! And ask you questions about your memor -"

"It's been more than four years of you just insulting me, that's what!" he replied, cutting him off, and sobbing profusely, "And that's more than enough for the three hundred years I've been alive!"

"... I, I'm sorry..." Matthew interrupted their heated conversation. _Three hundred years?! _He thought to himself, _what is he talking about!-! _"But... I'm kind of... confused, and..." He looked between Francis and the other boy in the room before exclaiming, "Why is there a sword in his stomach!?"

The guest turned towards the Canadian with a fright, almost as if he hadn't seen him. "Oh, um..." he turned to Francis with a much calmer look, his cheeks heating up from embarrassment as he realized that someone else had witnessed all of that. "You, didn't tell me he had arrived..."

Trying to look through his tears, the French boy gave a hiccup and replied heatedly, "Oh, him? He is the new transfer student you showed me - the picture," he then hissed, still angered, "Tea bastard."

That seemed to set him off. He lunged forward and started choking him, yelling quite loudly, "_Tea is good for you, you know!?_ Maybe if you actually drank some instead of feeding it all to your stupid roses while you suck on your sour red wine all day, you'd be able to enjoy it!" As the man continued to yell at Francis, Matthew figured that this stranger must be Arthur. Since Francis mentioned that he had given him a picture of him, just like the Arthur he had mentioned yesterday. But that didn't answer a lot of other questions he had now... Like the sword. That one was a biggie.

Francis' glare dropped as he hung limp in his arm, dead silent till he replied stoically, "You haven't figured it out in three years?" he chuckled darkly, grasping the handle of the blade and turning it so it blood began to trickle from his mouth, making him smile hysterically. "I haven't eaten in a month. It's almost Winter," he then ripped the rest of the shirt off, showing a patchwork of veins lacing his arms and going down to his knees, a ripe red color. They beated in unison, almost as if they were a tangled mess of brightly lit cords as he continued, "And that's when they need my blood the most, so no, I haven't had a drop of wine in ages."

Matthew and the stranger let out a yelp of disgust as they covered their eyes, since Francis was... well, bare, underneath his shirt. "For God's sake, man!" the British boy yelled, his face inflaming, "put your bloody shirt back on!"

Matthew just nodded his agreement, too afraid to open his eyes. His... his body, what were those, those hideous marks doing there?! And how was he still alive with that sword?-? And why hasn't he eaten in a month! And what did he mean by needing his blood? _What _needed his blood?-? And, and...

_What the hell was going on!?_

Francis' previously emotionless and dark look changed into a pouty, haughty sort of one as he replied stubbornly, "Non~ I don't like to wear clothing."

Arthur dropped his hands a bit to glare at him beneath his fingers. "Am I going to have to wrestle some clothes over your disgusting, frog body?!"

Francis growled, hissing as he grasped and un-grasped the handle sticking out of his chest, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, "You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh, dear Francis," Arthur muttered, picking up the discarded shirt from the floor. "You should know me better than that by now..." He lunged forward, yelling profusely as he tried to shove the cloth over his head. "_At least try to look decent in front of other people!-!_"

Francis screeched and squirmed, kicking at Arthur's chest and trying to claw out his eyes while simultaneously aiming a bite at his shoulder. "Get off me-" he managed to spout out between various attempts at biting. "You greasy, scone-muncher!"

"Greasy?!" he questioned incredulously. "You're the one with too much cheap product in your hair!-! And _now_ you care about food!?" Eventually, he settled on just tying the ripped cloth tightly around his waist before stepping back and huffing, inspected the marks across him with an odd fascination. "And these marks are why it should be even more important for you to attend these meetings." He sighed and held a hand up to his head again, taking a calming breath. "I know we haven't solved anything for three years, but... this is a complicated curse! Look at yourself!-! I never said I was a mage, just a magician, and... Oh, where are my manners!" he announced suddenly, turning to Matthew and smiling. "My name is Arthur Kirkland. I'm, regrettably, a friend of Francis' here, even if it may not seem like it right now."

"... Magician?" Matthew echoed, dropping his hands and looking at him curiously. This whole exchange both confused and astounded him; what were they talking about? Curse? Something needing his blood? Magicians? Meetings?! What did all of this mean? Trying to figure it out was starting to make his head hurt, and it didn't help that he still had a horrific case of "morning brain."

Francis interrupted Matthew's thoughts with a pout and shouted at Arthur in an offended tone, "You're just jealous of my long, blonde hair that is only washed with the best products and in soothing herbal water, _thank you. _And furthermore, at least I don't have a unibrow!"

Arthur started grinding his teeth as he turned to Francis. _"We've moved past that part of the conversation, already!_" he shoved the words out between his teeth._ "_And I told you, _I do not have a unibrow._"

He still glared, tugging at the clothing around his waist with a whine and replying, "Well it offended me to hear you insult my precious locks!"

"W-wait," Matthew tried again, taking a cautious step towards them. "What are you guys talking about? With all of this? This... why is Francis..." he looked between them almost desperately, the still-beating veins on Francis' body still freaking him out quite a bit. He even started to feel a little lightheaded looking at them...

The other two blondes turned their attention to him, Arthur giving a flustered look while Francis looked at the floor dejectedly, a new batch of tears slipping out as he tried to back away from Matthew's eyes. He hated this. Matthew would just try to avoid him like everyone else, wouldn't he? He was nothing but an ugly, bleeding mound of decaying flesh anyways, so why even bother anymore? It had been three centuries, and nobody had cracked the case, so why bother.

He already knew though. He had killed himself thousands of times and it never worked. Falling off of gargoyles, stabbing himself, beheading, hanging, bullet wounds, none of it did anything but make him black out for a moment, and then reanimate in a pool of his own blood and sprawled limbs. No, killing himself and coming back to life was nothing but a game for him now.

And he desperately tried to reach out to others and make new friends, or talk to people, or socialize, but people just avoided him like the plague he knew he was. They would run away, or ignore him, or the outspoken ones would chase him off and make fun of him. The teachers were uneased by him, the students hated him, and everyone else tried to forget he was there. It was as if they all knew he was cursed, even if he never said anything about it, or showed them the marks on his hands from... The roses.

And worst of all, he knew he couldn't leave. Any time he had tried to escape this prison of stone, he could never venture outside its gates. Some sort of force, he honestly didn't know what, wouldn't let him leave.

And then there was... every full moon...

Now fully sobbing, he collapsed to his knees, letting out all of his sorrow he had always tried to keep locked up. Francis didn't like letting others know he was in pain or just plain unhappy. He was suppose to be the big brother- the carer, the lover, the person to cheer you up, he didn't want others doing that to him.

Yet here he was, a balling pile of rotting flesh on the floor, tattered, scarred, and ugly, just as everyone thought he was - including himself.

How could he ever imagine having Matthew as a friend?

Said boy in question stared pitifully at the weeping boy on the floor, not entirely sure what to think anymore. He had just asked some simple questions that anyone would ask in this situation... right? I mean, what did he expect from him? To not wonder why he looked like that, or why he had a _sword in his stomach_ (has he mentioned that, already?), or what they meant by magic, or anything they talked about?

And what about the roses they keep mentioning? It almost made it seem like Francis was like Seymour from Little Shop of Horrors: feeding plants his blood since that was all they ate. But that couldn't be right, could it? But... that would explain why Francis was so against him offering to help tend the roses yesterday -

Oh, look at him! Actually considering something so ridiculous; things like that don't happen in real life!

… Although, they say getting a full-fledged scholarship to the school of your dreams was something that didn't happen in real life, either, and yet here he was. Not to mention that Francis' condition looked like something out of a Grimm Fairytale.

"... Francis...?" Matthew finally decided to say after a while, bending down to his level. "Please, stop crying..."

Arthur stared at Matthew, surprised, as Francis just sniffed.

Francis gazed distantly through blurry eyes and saw Matthew's arm. Desperately, he latched to it and held it close, refusing to say anything as limpid tears streaked down his cheeks.

Matthew shivered a little from the touch. Mainly because he was still incredibly cold, despite the beating veins, but also because he was not used to so much physical contact yet. "There there..." he said pathetically, patting his head carefully. "It's all right..."

Arthur smiled at him a little. He had never seen someone else treat Francis with such... compassion, before. Especially not after seeing him like this.

The blonde gazed up slowly through his hair, looking almost like a lost child. Slowly, he got up, panting heavily and hiccupping from his vicious sobbing beforehand. Still clinging to Matthew's arm, he remained close to the Canadian, staring intently into his eyes yet too afraid to say anything.

Matthew stared back into Francis' eyes and frowned, an ache appearing in his stomach. He had seen eyes like that before... Afraid, beaten down, rejected... Every animal he's ever had to hunt looked just like that before the final kill, and that's what he always hated about hunting in general.

Surprising himself, Arthur, _and_ Francis, he reached forward and hugged the veined boy, holding back his shivers so as not to offend the other.

Wishing he could hug back better, instead of having the sword stuck through his chest. Giving Arthur a desperate look, he knew the other could tell what he was asking.

Shifting his head, Francis nuzzled it close to the crook of Matthew's neck and whispered, "Grasp the handle of the sword."

"... What?" Matthew practically squeaked as he looked down at the handle. The handle with the blade wedged deep into the other's stomach. The handle that Francis had turned earlier to make blood come out of his mouth... The handle... oh, oh god... Matthew was starting to feel sick... "Um, n-no, no thank you..."  
"_Please_!" he pleaded loudly, shaking with a surprising force, "Only you can do this for me! So please, grasp the handle!"

Matthew bit at his bottom lip before looking down at the sword again. His eyesight started to blur, the veins across Francis' body pumping and growing in his vision, morphing into something else... A, a rose's stems, with all of the thorns, and they were coming right at him...!

He shut his eyes tight, and when he opened them again, the veins were back to normal. Matthew swallowed, not really sure what had just happened.

"I don't -" he started, but after looking into Francis' poor eyes and feeling that pit in his stomach grow again, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes before grabbing the sword handle.

Immediately, he felt Francis' lips pressed tenderly against his own, making his eyes widen. The blonde was - Francis, he was - was -  
_Kissing him?!_

Ice-cold lips felt like the deepest contrast against his warmer ones. Their mouths, though, seemed to fit perfectly, almost like missing puzzle pieces, making Matthew gasp in surprise as he stared. His slender fingers felt as though they were starting to slip off the handle till the grip on his shoulders reminded him otherwise.

Arthur, meanwhile, was conveniently looking up at the ceiling, a light blush on his face as he tried not to focus on the two so much. He knew that the kiss was necessary, and all that, but still... Francis didn't need to seem so into it, did he?

Yet he _was_ slightly into it though. Francis knew that Matthew could do it. He hadn't turned him away yet, and if he could do this... He knew he was the one then... The one who could... Maybe...

Save him?

All through this, Matthew was shaking. He had absolutely no idea what was going on, or why he was _kissing him_, nor why... why with the sword? What did he expect out of him?! And why, _why_, didn't he feel like it was right to stop kissing him, when that was what he really wanted to do!?

'_The sword_,' a crisp, almost thorny voice bloomed in his ears.

_What?_ He thought back, closing his eyes and finally giving in to his shivers, both from the cold and the disgust at this whole situation.

'_Pull it out_.'

_What?_ Matthew thought hysterically. _But if I do that he'll bleed all over -_

'_Just do it!_'

Matthew moaned slightly from the harsh tone of the mysterious voice before he did what was told of him and pulled the bloody sword out of it's holder.

Surprisingly, the sword slid out with ease, and with widened, disbelieving eyes, Matthew held it firmly in his grip and held it up. The blood began to slowly drip down and pool around his hand, making him feel faint again till he felt something heavy lean against him weakly for support.

Francis had passed out, eyes rolled to the back of his head as he lay in the crook of Matthew's arm.

And in place of the sword, no wound was to be seen. Instead, some veins shifted to make the mark of a rose upon his chest that throbbed and glowed slightly as he lay limp in Matthew's arms.

"... Wh, wh-what, what w-was -" Matthew stammered, switching his gaze from the sword, to Francis, and finally to Arthur. "Wh-what just happened? Why did... oh, oh god... what is...!" His legs started wobbling as the blood started dripping off of his hand. He dropped the sword with a clatter, his eyes almost matching Francis' and rolling back into his head. Stumbling backwards as darkness started to creep into his vision, he shook his head in a vain attempt to rid himself of this faint feeling. But it was incredibly hard to do so, especially since Francis was leaning against him as well.

Luckily, Arthur ran forward and caught Matthew and Francis before they could fall and hurt themselves. He smiled weakly at the two fully unconscious boys as he dragged them over to the bed, mumbling to himself, "Well, after three years, we finally got that sword out of you, eh? Old friend?" He chuckled wistfully as he picked them up and set them down on the bed, almost laughing when Francis snuggled even closer to Matthew. "I kind of feel bad for the fellow," Arthur said to no one. "He's probably going to be in even more shock when he wakes up. I wonder if he'll avoid Francis after all that..." Arthur put a finger to his lips as he thought, deciding that he should probably at least clothe Francis. It might reduce Matthew's panic upon awakening, right?

Giving a slight sigh, he took out his wand, bending it slightly and watching as a few sparks twinkled and fell from the tip. He knew the wand look horrendously cartoonish, just a black stick with a large, gaudy yellow star on the end, but he had lost a bet this week...

Raising the wand, he muttered a command and watched as shades of blue erupted from his wand and clothed Francis in something less prude for the time being, (and airy enough so the frog wouldn't whine for ages about Arthur stopping his nudist parade). Said garment being a ruffled crimson, long sleeved nightgown that pinched a bit under the elbows, and ruffled out with white frills going past his scarred fingertips. It had frills and laces accenting the hem that at least went past his knees. Tying its high ruffled collar was a white bow, along with a waistline sewn around the upper half of his ribcage, giving him a figure.

"There, that should be - hey!" he exclaimed as the wand started acting up again. "Oh, not again! Will you just listen to me for one bloody spell?!" He tapped it against his hand, hoping to diminish the bright light, but it was no use - the light went and almost seemed to attack Matthew, dressing him in an outfit similar to Francis', but more... manly, to say the least.

Now, the boy was dressed in a ruffled, white dress shirt that opened slightly, along with pants as red as the roses outside that clung tightly to his wiry legs with black leather boots right under the knee.

"... Well," Arthur muttered, putting his wand away. "At least it didn't turn him into an animal or something like before."

Silence began to meet Arthur, making him slightly bored as he waited for the two to be wracked out of their unconsciousness, giving him a great amount of time to analyze the situation thus far.

For starters, he could finally rub it in Francis' face about how they _had_ accomplished something! He turned to look at the sword on the ground before going to pick it up. The only problem with the sword being out of him, however, was that now they had to find another safe place to hide it. There was no telling the evil one could do if they had this enchanted weapon in their possession...

Unless... There was a way to put the sword back inside of him... After all, they had figured out after a while just how important the sword was...

Especially ever since the arrival of many posh students, trying to battle Arthur and the others for the right to claim Francis as theirs.

He had been lucky that a new challenger hadn't arrived in ages, but... They still had to keep their skills sharp. Many aristocratic boys had heard about the the blade, and they knew that no good would come from them going after the sword like greedy little pigs coming to the trough for dinner...

And his crystal ball would only explain so much when the time came for them to battle once again with a new opponent.

Arthur reared back his head with a sigh, running his hands through his hair as his mind raced.

What could this all mean? Francis latching onto Matthew, asking the boy to pull the sword out of him, what could it all-

Then it hit him. Francis may not have noticed when they first met, but later on, well, he imagined that the new chap had asked some questions and then...

Bolting out of his chair, he realized an excited smile was upon his face, making him hold back any noise of realization. Yes, yes it was all perfect! Matthew was it; he was the key to their three-year struggle!  
Matthew was the duelist they were looking for!

~!~!~!~

Matthew groaned as he rubbed his head, opening his eyes and finding the world blurry and smudged all around him. Where on Earth were his glasses-

"Thank goodness you're awake!" he heard Arthur's pleased voice come to his ears. He turned his head too look at the blonde, only currently he just looked like a giant, fuzzy monster, his eyebrows almost taking the place of his eyes through Matthew's vision.

"... Where are my glasses?" he asked, noting with surprise that his voice was dry and scratchy.

"Ah! Right, sorry about that," Arthur apologized as his figure moved towards the dresser. "I took them off of you in case you rolled over, or something like that - here!" He handed the boy an object that Matthew perceived to be his glasses, though he could never be too sure without proper vision.

Matthew however, felt an odd weight attached to his arm, forcing him to grunt in surprise, as he was unable to free one of his arms. It felt as though something was holding it tightly, trapping it between something rather cold -

_Francis!_

Matthew's face enflamed to an almost impossible degree as the events before he blacked out played over in his head. Sword. Blood. Kiss. Veins. Roses. Kiss. Eyes. Magic. _Kiss_.

He started struggling to get his arm free of Francis' hold, wanting, at the moment, to get as far away from the other as possible. Never, _ever_, had he felt so... so... _violated_...

Probably because that had been his first kiss... And, needless to say, it was a lot more bloody than he had expected... Especially since he hadn't been planning on having any blood at _all_.

"I know you must be a little frightened..." Arthur started, smiling sheepishly. "But please, don't be alarmed -"  
"What do you mean, don't be alarmed?!" Matthew asked hysterically, ceasing his futile attempts at freeing his arm. "Francis, he just... he...!"

"Had to get the sword out of his stomach," Arthur finished for him, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. "While this curse may be a little complicated, I found that it still has the cliché "true love's kiss" addendum, only, replace "true love" with "pure" and, um... Yeah. That's where you come in."

"That's another thing," Matthew started creasing his eyebrows at him. "What curse?"

Arthur blew some air out of his cheeks before clicking his tongue. "Well..." he started, "It began a long time ago." Sitting himself down upon a wooden chair nearby, he began to explain what he could almost describe as a fairy tale to the young lad, "We don't have the specifics, and we probably won't for a while, but what I am certain about is that long ago, this school was a castle It belonged to a noble family by the name of Rosa," he gestured around them, "Hence the name of our school, eh? Well, all to be one of the most beautiful, courageous families known in the land revered the noble family. They had it all - money, wealth, knowledge, you name it," Arthur's bright eyes then darkened as he continued, "But that didn't last for long. They soon began to boast about how their castle would soon reach up to the sky, piercing the heavens and creating a new sanctum for all, and with only one blade - the Rose Blade." Gazing intently into Matthew's eyes, he felt his own breath hitch as he continued, "And... Well, pieces of the story start to get a bit foggy, after that. Eventually, a powerful sorceress cursed one member of that family on her dying breath, yet from what I can conclude he didn't deserve it..."

"... Francis..." Matthew whispered, looking over at the accursed boy. "Francis was the one cursed..."

"If you believe that sort of thing," Arthur said jokingly. "Which I do. And, I take it, you do as well?"

Matthew stared at Francis as his mind revved up and almost attacked him with thoughts.

Ever since he had first met him, he knew that he wasn't... well, normal, he supposed. What with his mannerisms, and what he's said, and how cold he was. Heck, the idea of him being a fairy tale creature had probably entered his mind, even if it was subconscious. But... imagining something to be a fairy tale and actually _living_ one was completely different, and Matthew wasn't really sure where he should stand on this whole thing.

He should be focusing on his studies, and doing well in this new school. He had to get top-notch grades to continue going here, after all, because of his scholarship. He didn't have time for... _this_. Not to mention that he felt a little... "Awkward" around Francis now, ever since yesterdays little "sword-pulling during a kiss" venture.

"I can tell you're a little hesitant..." Arthur said suddenly, frowning. "But... will it change your mind if I say that you might be the only one who can help us? Help Francis?"

Looking at Arthur now, Matthew tried again to slip his arm out of Francis' hold. "What do you mean? I don't really -"

"We've been trying to get that sword out of him for three years," Arthur interrupted, standing up and walking over to the vanity. "Nothing has worked, but then you came along and... Walla, it's out."

Finally getting his hand out of Francis' hold, Matthew said, "That could just be a coincidence," before Francis shifted and groaned slightly from the loss of warmth. This was when Matthew noticed the clothes he and the other were dressed in. "Why am I wearing this!?"

"... Um..." Arthur said, looking over at Francis who was starting to shiver. "Well, my wand keeps acting up -"

Blinking open his blurry eyes, Francis gave a slight yawn and arose slowly, his hair tousled and slightly tangled. Rubbing his eye with his overabundance of sleeve, he lazily gazed about and asked drowsily, "Why is it so cold?"

"Because, my friend," Arthur said, grinning and taking the Rosa sword out from under the bed. "This is finally out of you."

Turning to look at it, he shrugged and yawned once more, replying in an un-impressed tone, "Oh great, another instrument to temporarily kill myself with."

Rolling his eyes, Arthur put the sword back under the bed. "Not if we find the Duelist..." He caught Matthew's eyes then, immediately making the other pale. _Surely he doesn't think I can -? _He started to think before Francis interrupted his thoughts:

"Wait, the duelist!?" Immediately he perked up, eyes sparkling with hope. Bouncing off the bed, he gave a happy cheer and asked excitedly, like a child on Christmas morning, "Really?! Have you finally found who it is?" he quickly tackled Arthur into a hug, nuzzling his face and jittering with energy, "I can't believe it!"

Arthur laughed nervously before gently pushing Francis back, a light redness dusting his cheeks. He still was not used to the Frenchman's affections, even after three years. "Well, I _think _I might know who it is..." he said weakly, not wanting to get his hopes up too much in case he was wrong.

Francis backed away, a grin on his face as he cocked his head. Balancing on tiptoe, he swayed back and forth and clicked his tongue, asking bluntly as his eyes continued to sparkle, "Well, then who is it?"

"..." Instead of responding, Arthur just continued to stare at Matthew, taking in the boy's look of complete and utter disbelief mixed with outrage. He probably could tell what the Brit was thinking, even if he didn't like it. But, if he's so against the idea, maybe he isn't...?

"You can't..." Matthew started quietly, but then his anger picked up and he walked towards Arthur. "You're off your rocker!-! I've never used a _sword_ before! And what does that even _mean_, a duelist?!"

Francis' grin grew as he bounced about the room happily, running to the bathroom to go get something as he explained, darting about almost hyperactively, "Well, a duelist is a swordsman! He, well, y'know," poking his head out of the bathroom, he explained simply, "Duels other swordsmen! And they duel because I," he motions to himself, coming out of the bathroom with a basket of hair care products, sitting down upon his bed and taking out an old looking hairbrush, "Am the scabbard that holds the sword they want... And, um..." biting his lip, he looked away uneasily, not entirely comfortable with explaining his part in the whole scheme of things, "I... Hold, well, we aren't entirely sure..." pondering how to explain for a moment, he then came to an epiphany. Gasping in delight, he got up and went to the cushioned window seal. Opening the window, he placed his hand outside and close to a rose bloom.  
Bringing his hand back up, he bit a nick in it and placed it back outside, and began beckoning to the rose, "Come on, fresh blood, just like you all love it - no, I'm not trying to wilt you!" Francis pouted, glaring at the bloom irately, "I'm trying to help you grow... Yes, yes I know it's been a while... Well, cut me some slack, I have over a thousand to feed!"

While Francis was busy talking to his roses, Matthew had been quietly stepping backwards, anticipating exiting this room and running far away from him. He was even considering requesting a room change - this was just all too much!-! He was talking to the rose like... like they all ate his blood... and, and this duelist thing still hopelessly confused him - why was he a scabbard?! And how could they possibly think _he_ was a duelist? He hated having to even hunt for food, let alone battle other humans!-! And furthermore, now that the sword was out of him, no one needed to fight over him, right? So why did they need him? Why did they have to drag him into this? Why did he drag _himself_ into this!?

"Ah! There you go!" Francis remarked, pulling Matthew out of his thoughts, "Just follow me inside, alright?"  
Gently, his eyes softening, the longhaired blonde moved away from the window and walked inside. What happened next though, made Matthew rub his eyes and check to see if it was real:  
The flower was slithering along after the French boy, following his every move.

Making his way back to the bed, Francis sat down and held out his hand limply, refocusing his attention on Matthew. Picking up his hairbrush, he allowed the rose to wrap around his hand, thorns and all, as he began to brush his hair and hum.

Matthew began to feel queasy as he witnessed the rose stick his thorns into Francis' wound, shimmering in a way that reminded him of a snake eating a mouse...

Was... was the rose _drinking_ his blood?! … He really is Seymour...

Matthew took a step back, feeling very faint again. He reached out a hand to steady himself on the nearest wall, closing his eyes and exclaiming just above a whisper, "Wh... What are you doing?!"

Looking up, his humming caught short, the boy's brushing hand stopped as he replied with the same cheery smile, "Showing you one of the things I can do with plants... There are other things," he admitted, gazing up at the ordinate ceiling absently, "But this is one of the simpler, quicker methods to explain."

"Er, Francis?" Arthur said, biting his bottom lip. "Perhaps that was a bit much to have Matthew see, right now..." Honestly, sometimes he wondered where that boy's head was at; couldn't he tell how uncomfortable he was?

Francis' brows furrowed in confusion as his eyes gazed at the other two. Titling his head, he asked, "Is it?"

"_YES_," Matthew screamed, giving in and slinking to his knees. "This - why? _I hate blood_," he told him, shivering and closing his eyes. "I hate everything about it!-! Why in the world are - how does that - I don't..." He started shuddering as thoughts of Francis getting sucked completely dry enter his mind. _No, that can't happen!_ He thought before adding on to his ramblings, "Just stop!-!"

Francis dropped the brush and stared at him, letting his brushing arm drop as he continued to stare steadily at him. Quietly, he muttered something in French and the flower slinked away, back outside and shutting the window with it.  
Getting up, his hair hid his expression as he backed away, inching towards the window.

"Francis, don't -!" Arthur started, but stopped once he started to speak.  
"I understand." Francis replied evenly, making the room feel slightly colder as he did so, "He's right. They all are." Opening the window, he shifted to perch on it, allowing himself to hang out of it halfway, "I'm nothing but a rotting pile of flesh - a compost, if you will." He just stared out of the window, refusing to look at the other two, as his voice gave nothing away. "And who am I to ask someone to help me? I was thrown out long ago... There isn't any point in retrieving said compost once you toss it, right?"

"Stop talking nonsense, Francis," Arthur tried to say, but was, surprisingly, interrupted by Matthew.

"That's not what I meant..." the quiet boy said, looking up with an almost steely gaze. "Stop immediately putting yourself down!-! I'm sick of it! It reminds me of me -! …" He looked down again, tears coming to his eyes and falling almost gracefully to the floor. "You are your own worst enemy... If you keep telling yourself things like that, of course they're going to be true!"

Perching still, he whipped his head around and demanded, "And how do I remind you of yourself?!" he reared back and got off the window, marching up to him in utter disbelief, "You are a smart, handsome, well-balanced, and kind individual, Matthieu! How could you compare yourself - _yourself_," he then groaned and gestured to himself, "To _this?!_"

"Because!" Matthew started, standing up and looking him straight in the eyes. "You think I was always like this? For the longest time I was just a background! A wallflower! No one _ever_ noticed me! Not even my own mother, sometimes!-!" He clenched his fists hard before continuing, "Eventually it got to the point where I started thinking... If I were gone, no one would miss me. Hell, no one would even _notice_." He steeled his gaze again before poking Francis in the chest. "I started telling myself that I was garbage, that I was worthless, that no matter what I do or how hard I try, nothing will come of it." He looked out at the roses outside the window then, noticing that they were crowding around almost as if they were eavesdropping. "Just like you're telling yourself that you're just a compost heap... And, Francis, let's face it," he smiled wryly before telling him, his voice void of any emotion, "at least being a scabbard is better than being nothing."

With that, he turned and ran out of the room, slamming the door on his way out. He needed to clear his head after what he had just said...

Francis stared after him, shocked beyond belief. That boy... That selfless, quiet, kind boy was comparing himself to him... Was finding his life worse than his... And-and-  
He shut his thoughts off, staring after him, completely unsure what to do. He was utterly bewildered.  
"Arthur," he managed to sputter out, clutching himself and shaking slightly as his eyes slowly shifted to look at the equally surprised, bushy-browed teen, "He has to be the one."

"... I know..." Arthur responded hoarsely, clearing his throat before asking, "But how can we convince him of that?"

Opening his eyes, he dully stared at the wall and replied aimlessly, "I don't know."

**Author's Note, TheGuardianKnux: My friend Alexa drew some fanart for this story! ^^ I promise I'll post it on my facebook page sometimes! And thank you for the reviews we've gotten!**

Anyways, read and review! ^^


	3. New Friends and Frightening Circumstance

"I'm an idiot," Matthew hiccupped to himself as he sat in between aisles of books in the school's library. Which was magnificent, by the way - it had met and exceeded his expectations. It almost seemed like a giant ballroom, only instead of large windows, ornate chairs, and sparkling chandeliers, it had rows upon rows of knowledgeable books for any and all occasions. Not to say that there wasn't windows, chairs, or light sources in the library, it was just that the books were more prominent; it was as if everything else in the room had humbled itself to make room for what was really important.

"What was I thinking?" Matthew continued his self-pity, rubbing at his leaking eyes. "Saying all of that, and he's right - how can I compare my life to his? At least I haven't had a sword stuck in me for ages, or had to feed roses my blood... and I suppose being invisible is better than being bullied." He sniffed, looking up at a corner of the humongous skylight in the roof, the sun acting as a reminder that he was probably missing breakfast. Not that he knew where the dining hall was - heck, he had only stumbled into the library by chance.  
Suddenly, through his troublesome thoughts, he heard soft footsteps and a thud as someone tripped and landed on the floor right beside him with a groan. Startled, he jumped slightly in his spot and gazed at the person on the floor beside him.  
The person beside him seemed to be a boy, his age, with straight, shoulder blade length brunette hair that reminded him of the color of chocolates. The mysterious male seemed almost as tall as him, and was dressed in the same uniform he had been wearing yesterday. Watching as the other boy got up, his violet eyes met soft, subdued and quiet looking green one as the other boy asked in a polite, yet nervous stammer, "P-Please forgive me, sir, I'm sorry if I have disrupted your browsing-"

"N-no," Matthew replied, shaking his head and wiping at his eyes furiously. "You didn't disrupt anything - are you all right? That looked like quite a fall."  
The boy shifted and sat on his knees, back arched and poised as he replied softly, shaking his head with a small smile, "I-It was nothing, just a tad clumsy on my feet sometimes, sir."

"Please, call me Matthew," the purple-eyes boy replied with a small smile. "Sir is... well, I'd say my father, but I never really knew him."

Eyes widening slightly, he nodded and apologized, "I'm sorry si- I mean, Matthew," looking down for a moment, he looked back up and replied with a shy smile, "I-I have a habit of being overly formal - I'm sorry if that's odd, it's just Ivan - wait, um, on second thought," shaking his head, he slapped himself and replied with a sigh, "O-Oh, now I'm getting carried away. I'm sorry, Matthew, what I was about t-to say was," he looked back up, his cheeks reddening as he gave a flustered look, "My name is Toris Laurinaitis, and um, I-I'm Lithuanian, yes..."

"Heh, nice to meet you, Toris," Matthew said politely, holding out a hand. "I'm Matthew Williams - of Canadian decent, and proud of it." He would have asked who this "Ivan" character was, but after making Francis so jumpy yesterday with all of his questions, he had decided he would try to stop asking so many.

Smiling more, showing Matthew that he was starting to calm down, he grasped the other boy's hand and shook it firmly, replying, "I am pleased to meet you."

"Likewise." It was at that precise moment that Matthew's stomach chose to growl. Quite loudly, in fact, making the other horribly embarrassed.  
Blinking, Toris gave a worried look and asked with concern, "Are you hungry? O-Our base here has an excellent kitchen, a-and I would more than love to cook you something to eat-"

"Really?" Matthew asked, surprised. Smiling brightly, he said thankfully, "That'd be great! I haven't eaten since lunch time yesterday!"  
Toris gaped in horror. Quickly, he grasped Matthew by the hand and asked almost hysterically, "H-Has Ivan come after you?! O-Oh dear, oh dear, oh _dear!"_ he clutched his stomach in pain, seizing up. Matthew was about to ask what was wrong when he saw a shadow looming over them.  
Standing behind Toris was a tall, glowering looking figure of another boy. He wasn't dressed in their school uniform, but rather a dense, heavy coat that seemed to go down past his knees. It was grey, looking as if it were made of wool, and buttoned up with large buttons. Around the large boy's neck was a fading tan scarf that looked a little worn on the ends.  
As for the boy's physical appearance, he seemed to be big boned, his face holding the same baby fat as that of a child. On either side of his prominent nose, soft, kiddish purple eyes peered out in an eerie sort of fashion. His slightly tousled, silverish-looking hair complimented him somehow, as did the soft smile he worse, yet it seemed to... Not settle right with Matthew... Whoever this boy was, he seemed intimidating, childish, and possibly cruel...  
"Chto-? Toris," the boy asked softly, as if in a kind, questioning way, yet the temperature around them seemed to drop like a stone in a bucket, making the room unnecessarily tense, "Who is this fellow that you are talking to?"

"I'm... Matthew," the Canadian said, noting with alarm how nervous and locked up the boy he had just met looked.  
"Matvej?" the boy questioned, leaning in to gaze intently at Matthew, still incredibly curious, "Interesting..."

"... Are you Ivan?" Matthew pieced together, looking him up and down. The way Toris had been talking about him earlier suddenly made sense to him; but what did he mean by "get to you"?  
The Slavic-sounding boy's face lit up, as he grinned and chuckled jovially, "You have heard of me, comrade Matvej? That is so sweet," he then gazed down intently at Toris, who shuddered as he felt his hardened gaze on his back, "_Da?_"

"O-only your name!" Matthew quickly said, noticing the other boy's discomfort. "I, um, heard it in the halls, they uh... mentioned your scarf." Matthew prayed to God that his scarf was something he wore all the time; it seemed logical, considering how worn it looked.  
Ivan looked up into Matthew's eyes, seeming slightly impressed as he smiled, replying bluntly, "A well put together lie, Matvej, you must be one of intelligence da?"

"..." He knew there was no point in continuing his lie so he just sighed and muttered, "Yes..." He glanced over at Toris, who had turned incredibly pale and was starting to shake violently. "B-but...!" Matthew continued, looking up at the intimidating Ivan, "T-Toris really only mentioned your name - I just guessed that it was you."  
Blinking, he just smiled brightly and giggled, "Good! That is such a nice thing for my friend to do!"

"... What?" Matthew muttered as Ivan picked up Toris into a hug.

Tois just stared, wide-eyed and shivering as Ivan held him close against his chest like a teddy bear and commented simply, "Matvej, you are the roommate of comrade Frensis, da?"

"Uh, yeah, how did you -?"

"Because Artur told us so, comrade," he replied, engulfing Matthew's free hand with his larger, gloved one and pulling him along like a ragdoll, unknowing of his discomfort or possible pain, "And Frensis is our friend, our comrade."

Matthew stared up at him almost suspiciously before standing up slowly. "I was under the impression that Francis didn't have many friends..."

"Oh, he doesn't," Ivan replied, his smile never faltering as he just continued to explain, as if talking about the weather, "He only as Artur, Alfredka, Toris, me," he then turned his head slightly and gazed at Matthew sharply, "And now you, Matvej"

"What!" Matthew exclaimed, "I, I never promised to be his..." He hesitated as pictures of Francis looking angrily at him as well as those bloodthirsty roses entered his head. And... that, that kiss...

"... We're, I don't know what..." he finished lamely.  
"Friends," Ivan replied firmly, his simple smile becoming twisted as the air tensed up around him and he asked forcefully, "_**Da?**_"

Shivering and fearful, Matthew replied almost too fast, "Y-yes! Fr-friends! Of course, h-how could I think any different?!"

Closing his eyes cheerfully, the tense and forced aura, dark and suffocating, vanished as Ivan praised happily, "Good boy!"

… _He's treating me like a dog..._ Matthew thought disconsolately. _Just who does this guy think he is?_

Unfortunately, he wouldn't find out the answer just then, as his stomach growled ferociously. Almost like it was yelling at him to get some sustenance.

Ivan stopped walking immediately, and stood still for a moment. Suddenly, the dark aura was back as he commanded, "Toris, be a good boy and go fetch Matvej some food."  
Toris nodded quickly, and felt relieved as he was released from Ivan's arms, allowing him to scurry to the library's kitchen as fast as his legs could carry him.

"I - I could have gotten my own food," Matthew said weakly as he looked up at Ivan.

Ivan closed his eyes and smiled, gazing down at Matthew and replying, "Don't be silly! Toris would love to make you something, Matvej!"

"Well, I'm sure he would," Matthew agreed, nodding slightly, "But..." He almost buckled under the weight of Ivan's strong hand patting him on the back.

The larger boy didn't seem to notice still, and dragged him over to an isle bar right next to the kitchen, singing softly in Russian all the while in a cheery tone.

"Wh-what?" Matthew mumbled, staring at the counter. "Why is there a k-kitchen in here?"

Ivan nodded, still smiling as he took a bottle of vodka out of his coat pocket, "Da, mostly because Alfredka's family donated it, and he loves to eat after all..."

"Who's "Alfredka"?" Matthew asked, staring at the bottle he had in his hands. "And isn't it against school rules to carry alco -" he stopped short as the atmosphere turned icy cold again, so he covered quickly, "Er... n-never mind..."

Ivan opened his eyes, which were dilated as he gazed down at Matthew almost icily; his smile stretched and warped, "Good. Boy."

In that instant, Matthew wanted to bolt up from the spot and run out of there as fast as he could, but he found that he was frozen, and... Locked up. Much like Toris had been moments before. Just what was it about this _smiling _man that made him so scary?

When Matthew looked up once more, he noticed that his smile was back to normal, and that the mood had lifted as Ivan held a lead pipe to his chest and had began to eat what looked like chocolate out of it.

Staring at the chocolate, Matthew's mouth started to water. He quickly held a hand up to his mouth and leaned on the counter, certain that Ivan wouldn't want to share whatever he had.

Finding himself proven wrong, he found a candy bar being handed to him, Ivan smiling happily and asking as he cuddled his pipe, "Want some chocolate?"

"Oh!" Matthew exclaimed, blinking at the sweet. "Thanks." He took it slowly, almost as if he expected him to pull it away at the last second, but once he had unwrapped it and placed a square in his mouth, he began to relax a little. It seemed he was only scary when you did something to anger him... Although what his triggers are is a mystery, which filled him with an anxiety that he may accidentally trip one.

But, nonetheless, he did have _one _question for him, so hopefully he'd answer it.

"... How do you know Francis?" he asked quietly, looking up at him out of the corner of his eyes.

Ivan blinked, slightly surprised, and continued to nibble on his chocolate thoughtfully. Swallowing, he came to a conclusion, leaning on the table and propping his elbows on it, replying, "I know Frensis... Because he doesn't... Hmm, I'd say we're a lot alike, and that's how we became friends." he frowned slightly, gazing down at the counter surface, "People don't really like us."

"I can see why..." Matthew mumbled before he could stop himself. He immediately paled, thoughts of meeting an early death coming to his mind. "S-sorry...!" he said immediately, holding his palms out in front of him as a shaky shield. "I, I didn't mean that -"

The temperature dropped almost below zero to him, as he heard a low, gravelly chant come from the boy beside him, almost surrounding them in an echo.

"Kolkolkolkolkolkolkolkol-"

"Hey, Ivan, my man! How's it hangin'?!" a cheery voice yelled, padding over to them.

Matthew turned to the new person with so much relief and gratitude that he almost felt like kissing his feet. "Hello, it's nice to meet you," he called, smiling and doing his best to ignore the other beside him.

Ivan immediately stopped, smiling once again, as he greeted, "Privit, comrade!"

Alfred grinned, coming up beside them and sitting down, turning to Matthew and asking, "Who are you, broski?"

"I'm Matthew," he said easily. "I'm new - just got here yesterday."

"Matthew, eh," he asked, patting Matthew's back, "Nice name! I'm Alfred F. Jones, and," he raised a hand, as if making a point, "Do not know what the F. means."

As Matthew giggled and continued to look at him, he noticed his unique appearance. This boy looked almost like his mirror double, except more honey, sandy blonde hair that was shorter and parted to his right. A cowlick protruded from said parting, and wire, square-rim glasses surrounded his eyes. What was really noticeable was the fact that the American sounding boy had bright red, white, and blue braces.

And from what else Matthew could see, Alfred seemed to be... Rather nerdy. He wore some starry pajama bottoms, striped socks, and a Captain America T-shirt under what looked like a bomber jacket.

"You look very..." Matthew started, looking him over again. "... Colorful."

Alfred nodded enthusiastically, his cowlick wiggling as he replied, "Thanks bro! And hey, dude," his eyes widened, and he grasped Matthew by the shirt, "You look... Like my clone..."

Matthew laughed a little, pushing at the hands around his shirt. "Yes, I suppose we do look like twins. Maybe we're long-lost brothers?" He added that last part as a joke, but Alfred seemed to take it completely seriously.

"Wait bro, _seriously?!_" his eyes sparkled as his mouth widened and he turned, asking Ivan excitedly, "Ivanski! Do you think it's true?!"

Ivan gave a slightly amused smile, replying, "Sure, comrade, sure."

"W-wait, I was just -" Matthew tried to say, only to be interrupted by the loud American.

"BRO! I AM GETTING SOME FEELS," he tackled Matthew into a tight hug, crying happy tears and babbling, "I DEMAND HUGS!"

Feeling like every bone in his body was being crushed, and finding it odd that absolutely no one except Arthur understood personal space in this school, Matthew just weakly hugged him back. He swore he could see his spirit leaving through his mouth, however, from such a tight hug.

Alfred didn't seem determined to let go till he heard Arthur's commanding and tart tone.

"For God's sake, Alfred - what have I told you about killing strangers with hugs?!" He walked forward with an eye roll, tearing him apart from Matthew. "Honestly, do you even know who this - Matthew!" Arthur exclaimed, smiling at him. "Sorry, I couldn't tell it was you through this idiot's fat arms."

Alfred released Matthew, looking up at Arthur with tears in his eyes as he sniffled. Sniffling again, he got up and ran at Arthur, yelling angrily in an accent similar to Arthur's for some odd reason, "Bloody bastard! Calling me a bleedin' fat bender!"

The true British boy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alfred, calm down, you know I don't mean anything by it."

"Wanker!" he replied childishly, flipping him off and running past him into the sea of bookshelves.

Positively fuming now, Arthur ran after him, yelling heatedly, "Who are you calling a wanker!? You're the one with all of those stupid action figures hauled up in your room! And what about no running in the library, you bloody tosser!-!"

Matthew watched both of them leave with a sinking heart, realizing that he was alone with... Ivan again...

Without even thinking, he found himself running after Arthur, hoping beyond hope that Ivan wouldn't follow after him.

Hearing no footsteps after him, he heard a commotion between Alfred and Arthur just a little ways away.

Finding them, he saw Alfred squirming on the couch, holding a... Rather perverse looking book to his chest as Arthur straddled his waist, trying to take it from him.

"Hey! That's my Yaoi manga!" Alfred objected, blushing slightly and kicking his legs.

"That's not something you should be yelling proudly!-!" Arthur scolded him, also blushing slightly from the cover of the material. "This stuff is rotting your already non-existent brain!-!"

"Oh yeah?! Then why do _you _own a copy of it?!" he asked, immediately turning Arthur's face crimson. He scoffed and rolled his eyes before adding, "Besides, it's not as bad as Mr. Beilschmidt's books."

"Th-that..." Arthur started, ceasing trying to take the book away from him now. "It doesn't matter if it's not as bad, this stuff is still bad for you! And... And I only own them because you _gave_ some to me!-!" He finally managed to tear the book out of his grasp, much to the other's dissatisfaction. He put it under his arm and glared at Alfred, but made no motion to get off of the other.

Alfred glared, furious that such an addictive manga had been taken from him. Junjou Romantica was a good manga! A-And besides... It wasn't... Like...

His glare started to soften as he gazed up at Arthur, blushing slightly.

Arthur tilted his head to the side and raised a brow. "What? Why are you..." He blushed furiously as he looked at how he was sitting on him before practically falling off the couch in his haste to get off of him.

Alfred still blushed, looking away and getting up, taking a different manga out of his back pocket.

He then smirked at Arthur and stuck out his tongue, replying, "I've still got some Yuri~"

Glaring at the boy for holding such putrid material, Arthur soon smirked and held up his precious manga with two hands at the top. "Oh? Is that so? Then you won't be needing _this_." With his last word, he ripped the manga a little at the top, laughing when he heard the other boy practically squeak out of disbelief.

Alfred gazed in shock, his eyes beginning to water. Sniffling, he teared up and then began to cry, running away in a mess of tears.

"Oh no..." Arthur mumbled, dropping the book and feeling his stomach turn hollow. Matthew couldn't help but notice how... forlorn he looked, and how his eyes had turned softer than he'd ever seen anyone's turn. He looked truly sorry for what he had done...

"I took it too far again..." Arthur continued with a sigh. He got up slowly and made an attempt to chase after the hyper boy again when he noticed Matthew out of the corner of his eye. He smiled at him, all previous traces of sadness gone as he asked, "Oh, I was looking for you, actually - care for something to eat? I imagine you must be starving."

Matthew felt his stomach growl again, but he quickly covered his stomach before replying, "Well, yes, but... Alfred looked kind of upset -"

"Pish posh," Arthur interrupted with a wave of his hand. "If you knew him as well as I did, you'd know that he'll be back to his old self in no time. I might have to..." he blushed slightly as he picked up the damaged manga, looking it over. "I might have to get him a new copy of _this _despicable thing, but he'll be fine."

"What is "yaoi" anyways?" Matthew asked, tilting his head.

Arthur's face inflamed again as he tried to stutter a response. "It's... well... uh... You, you can ask Alfred when you see him next. Come along, now! The dining hall is this way." He started stumbling off to the right, expecting Matthew to follow. Which he did, since he was so hungry that he was almost considering hunting for his food. He couldn't help but feel a little cautious though, since Arthur would no doubt try and convince him of this "duelist" nonsense again. Not to mention that Francis could possibly be waiting in the dining hall, and he really didn't want to deal with him after this morning...

Suddenly, they heard a tentative voice approach them as Toris interrupted, wringing his hands and announcing, "M-Matthew, your meal is ready..."

"Oh! Thank you," Matthew said gratefully as he walked up to Toris and took the plate of food from him. "I hope you didn't have trouble finding me."  
"Ah, I see you've met Toris..." Arthur said with an almost disapproving frown. "Why did you make him breakfast?" he asked almost accusingly.

Toris paled, quivering as he replied hurriedly, "P-Please, Arthur, I-I was just doing what Ivan told me to do!"

"And there lies the problem." Arthur's gaze softened as he stared at the pathetic boy. "Are you still sure you don't need help?"

Toris looked away, clenching and unclenching his hand as he replied softly, "I-It's... It's not his fault, it's mine."

"... What's not his fault?" Matthew asked quietly, his stomach growling from the delicious aroma. He figured his stomach could handle a few more minutes of emptiness, though - right now, Toris' supposed problem seemed more important.

Toris looked away, biting his lip before announcing softly, "Let me go find Alfred, Arthur. I-I'm sure he's rather hungry and I wouldn't want him-"

"Stop offering to do things for everyone!" Arthur yelled, clenching his fists. "You're an amazing swordsman, Toris. Why don't you start acting like one and stand up for yourself?

Whipping around, he replied with a surprising amount of force, "I'm sorry it I don't act like a prideful ass!" Now glaring, he continued, "That isn't my code of chivalry!"

"You should at least act with some amount of courage and self-dignity!" Arthur yelled back easily. "Walking around and obeying his every command like a dog... it's sickening!"

Tori's clenched his fists, face heating up with frustration and embarrassment as he explained, sounding fragile and hurt, "M-My chivalry is all I have now. And my code," he looked up firmly into Arthur's eyes, "Is to protect my friends, serve, and, above all, give everyone the benefit of the doubt."

"Benefit of the doubt?!" Arthur asked almost tearing at his hair. "When one treats you like a slave instead of a respected friend, it's time to realize that your doubts are justified!" He let out a frustrated sound before grabbing Matthew roughly by the arm and starting to drag him away. "But fine, if you're going to "honor" your code then I'll leave you to act like the dog you've become."

Before he could leave, he heard the sound a blunt object being swung and hitting Arthur on the head, "I am no one's dog, and you better have enough strength to live up to your accusations."

Smirking now, Arthur reached into his inside-jacket pocket. "That's the confidence I was looking for," he said, his voice suddenly sounding much deeper and more... experienced, somehow. When he took his hand out of his jacket, he had magically pulled a sword out of it with him. Turning around, he took a stab at Toris, grinning with delight as the other did a backflip to get away from his attack. "I'm a little worried for you, though," Arthur taunted, getting into a specific stance. "When was the last time you've picked up a weapon?"

"Last night," Toris answered as he unsheathed his sword, throwing the scabbard at Matthew and swinging his blade at Arthur, "I always stay sharp."

Matthew almost dropped his tray of food as he scurried to catch the scabbard, finding Francis winding his way into his head once he touched the thing. He stared at the two with wide eyes, feeling extremely shocked that these two were going to sword fight _right now - in a __**library**_.

"Really?" Arthur asked the now confident boy, still wearing a smirk. "Let's hope your skills are as sharp as your tongue - Hiya!" he lunged forward, seeming to Matthew to have all the grace of a soaring bird.

Before he could land his lunge though, a loud _**POP **_was heard as a cork came flying at racing speeds, hitting Arthur right in the forehead.

Alfred bolted at Arthur, tackling him to the ground and whipping his pop cork gun over to Toris without looking and shot him with it as well.

As if it didn't faze him, Tori's simply cut through the cork, smiling proudly.

"Damn it, Alfred," Arthur seethed through his teeth. "I was about to engage in a battle of swords!-!"

Alfred smirked, leaning down and licking Arthur's cheek just to annoy him as he replied, "Too bad. You know what happened last time Toris kicked your ass."

Blushing profusely from both Alfred's action and his words, Arthur stuttered, "Th-that... _Why the hell did you __**lick**__ me_ - I w-won't lose so easily this time!"

Alfred wiggled his brows, replying ambiguously, "Because you taste good~ Like Earl Grey with a hint of lemon~"

Holding a hand up to his face, Arthur groaned. "And _this _is why I don't want you reading yaoi..."

Choosing this moment to move from his previously frozen position of staring in shock at the swords the two held, Matthew walked forward, throwing Toris his scabbard as he asked, "Um, Alfred? What is Yaoi, exactly?" He figured he'd forget if he didn't ask now, not to mention that this might hopefully deter Arthur and Toris' sword battle.

Blushing slightly, Alfred looked up at Matthew with a lopsided grin and replied, "Oh, Yaoi, well, it's just," he gazed down at Arthur, a sweat breaking out as he trailed off slightly, "This..."

Before he knew it, Alfred had leaned in and slowly kissed Arthur on the lips, sliding his tongue into the other's mouth all the while cursing his braces for making it harder and rather uncomfortable.

Arthur swore that if he were an ice cube, he'd be nothing but a puddle of water right now. _What did he think he was doing!?_ He thought to himself, even as he felt his eyes slipping shut and his hands mysteriously finding their way around Alfred's neck.

Alfred felt said hands around his neck; thoroughly surprised that Arthur wasn't pushing him off of himself. Why would Athur be kissing back?! He was jus the dorky kid with the braces and Arthur was... He was... Too beautiful!

Evidently, he spoke too soon when he felt his back hit the ground with surprising force. Looking at Arthur, he could see that the usually proper boy was incredibly flustered, his jaw dropped open. "Wh-wh-what..." he muttered, shaking slightly as he looked at Alfred. "What was th-_that_, Alfred!-! Why would you e-even -!" He shut his eyes tightly before standing up and running out of there, accidentally leaving his sword behind in his haste. Oh, _why_ in the world did he react like that!? Why couldn't he just admit to himself that he wanted to...! … Well, he did "listen to his heart" at first, but afterwards... why couldn't he just be honest!-! Why couldn't he just tell Alfred how he felt?

Even as he asked himself all these questions, he knew _why_. He wasn't meant to fall in love, it was... bad things always happened to the ones he loved, and he wanted to ensure that nothing of the sort would happen to Alfred.

Meanwhile, Matthew just stared at Alfred, who looked positively devastated, with a slight blush. _Oh, _he thought_, that's what Yaoi, is... _He blushed himself as he thought about Francis kissing him again. _So technically, we..._

Alfred gazed after him, his expression utterly broken. Turning around, he bolted away, silent tears streaming down his face as he left and didn't turn back.

Toris sighed and turned to Matthew, letting the other know that he had sheathed his sword.

"You better let them sort it out," he explained, going over and taking Matthew's plate, "Meanwhile, I think you sh-should go visit Francis in the stables."

Sighing, Matthew stared at the plate longingly. "I don't really think he wants to see me..."

Toris gave a small smile and shook his head, "No, he does, he's probably too scared he'll chase you off."

"Why would he think...? Well, I guess I know." He continued to stare at the food, his stomach growling as he smiled sheepishly. "Can't I take that with me?"

Blinking, Toris gasped and face palmed, replying apologetically, "I-I'm so sorry about that! I had no clue-" he just shook his head, handing the tray over to Matthew.

"Thanks..." He took the food gently before looking up at him and biting his lip. "Um, good luck with Ivan."

Toris frowned slightly before giving a small smile, nodding and turning around, not explaining anything else as he went back to the kitchen.

Matthew blew his cowlick out of his face before standing up straight and walking out of the library. He might as well go see Francis, although first he needed to find the stables... But he should at least sit down and actually _enjoy_ his meal first, shouldn't he? Yes, he decided as he sat down under a tree and looked up through the foliage. The green light shining through the leaves always produced a calming effect over him, but the roses he could see out of the corner of his eye... well, did not. Shutting his eyes, he took a deep breath and finally dug into his now-cold meal.

So far, Rosa Academy was nothing like how he imagined it.

**Author's Note, Annzy: Annzy couldn't believe how popular this story is getting! So many views and reviews, she's really thankful! ^^ So she thanks you all for the reviews!**

**Author's Note, TheGuardianKnux: And I thank you as well! I feel so honored for you all taking your time and writing reviews. :'3 So thank you, thank you so much for feeling this way. It really means a lot to me. If you have any questions in the review, I promise we'll answer them and let it be known, we read **_**every**_** review. So again, bless your soul and thank you.**

**Anyways, read and review! :D**


	4. Getting to Know You

"Francis?" Matthew called hesitantly as he stuck his head into the entryway of a barn. He had finally found the stables after eating and disposing of his meal and wandering around for a good ten minutes.

Only, he found that the "stables" actually consisted of numerous, large barns, in which Francis could be hiding in any crevice. He hated having to search for someone who he was no doubt going to have an awkward conversation with...

Suddenly, he heard a voice a ways away that sounded familiar.

"Off course you're beautiful, Rarity," he heard said voice coo, "Don't let Shining Shores tell you otherwise, mon cher!"

Matthew found himself smiling at the gentle, soothing voice Francis used to talk to the horses. He really wasn't kidding about all of those animals he talks to, was he?

But what was with those names?

He walked into the stable, then, following the sound of Francis' voice.

Francis must have heard him, because he stopped talking and became silent, turning around and staring at Matthew nervously.

The Canadian just stared at him for a second before realizing that he was probably not going to say anything until he did. Taking a deep breath, he surprised even himself with how quiet he sounded, "So, um... you, you wanted to see m-me?"

Francis seemed to relax slightly, as he began to braid his hair into a loose braid and replied, "O-Oui... I very much w-wanted to..."

"..." Matthew cleared his throat slightly as he walked over to the horse and started petting it. "Well... why?"

Francis' eyes widened in surprise, not believing that Matthew hadn't ran away from him in disgust. Exhaling, he continued to braid his hair, looking away and explaining softly, "Because... You-you're my friend..."

Matthew froze, staring at the horse's fur. They... they were friends? When was this decided? When had they agreed on this?! Why would he want to be friends with someone who fed roses blood and _kissed _him...!

He closed his eyes tightly, almost scolding himself for thinking these thoughts. Of course Francis thought they were friends... with how he kept acting and treating him so normally, despite everything he's seen... But was it his fault that he was just a nice guy? He treated everyone like that...

… Although, he had to admit, deep down... he wanted to be friends with Francis. Even when they had first met he knew he was interesting, not like anyone he'd ever met before. That difference was not something that he was used to; his life had been boring, mundane, and tiring ever since he could remember, and he had wished more than once for something more exciting to happen to him.

And now, after finding out about all this curse business, he had known immediately that his wishes had been answered, and he had felt a longing to help, even if he squashed it pretty good. After all, how would anyone react to someone showing them their little... rose trick. He still didn't think he was "the duelist," but he still kind of wanted to be involved in all of this crazy mess...

… Maybe he should have his head examined.

Though there was also the fact that the boy refused to leave his head for the entire day... I mean, he had to admit that the boy seemed nice, and like he would make a great friend. Even if he did get a little emotional and dramatic at times, and it seemed he had to watch what he said quite often lest he set the boy off.

… And he had also told Ivan that they were friends, so... Why not?

"Right," Matthew finally said, smiling sheepishly at him. "Of course..."

Francis stopped his slow weaving, eyes immediately shifting to stare up at Matthew in disbelief at first. He hadn't turned him away? Matthew didn't think he was the plague? Or a freak? He wasn't going to leave him?

Staring, he felt too shocked to say anything, his muscles locking up as he completely froze.

Smiling at him, Matthew hugged the horse. "Say," he started, wanting to change the subject, "Something crazy happened in the library today..."

Francis perked up, feeling as if some color was returning to his pale face. Finishing his weave and tying it with some spare blue ribbon. Smiling slightly, he asked with a slight giggle, "Really?!"

Matthew returned the giggle before nuzzling his face against the horse's fur. "Yeah. Alfred kissed Arthur."

Francis gave an amused smirk, petting the horse's mane and replying, "Those two and their sexual tensions~ so hilarious~"

"Sexual tensions?" Matthew asked, turning to him with confusion written on his face. "You mean... they really do like each other?"

Francis gave a warm smile, nodding and replying, "Oui~ They're just too stubborn to stop letting excuses get in the way~"

Matthew laughed a little, petting Rarity again. "I have to admit, they seem like they'd make a... "fun" couple."

Francis nodded, still smiling as he pet Rarity, and agreed, "Oui, which is why I better be able to name one of their kids!"

"What would you name one?" he asked with a chuckle, watching with delight as Rarity neighed. It sounded almost... proper, somehow.

Francis noticed her contribution to the conversation and laughed, replying, "Rarity, Carrot Cake is not a suitable name for a human- No, neither is cow patty!"

Matthew started laughing, even having to hold his stomach from how hard. "It must be nice to understand animals."

Francis turned his attention back to Matthew and smiled in delight, his posture however displaying slight unconfidence as he replied, "Y-Yeah, it's nice... And I really love talking to them, and being so close to nature..." almost like a reflex, he felt his hand shift and cover Matthew's, fingers wrapping around it.

"Ah..." Matthew muttered, slowly taking his hand away. "Um... I, I still don't like such close contact, Francis... It's nothing against you, I'm just.. not used to it."

Blinking, he immediately retracted his hand, yet his eyes betrayed his emotions of yearning as he stammered out quickly, "O-Of course, I am so sorry-"

"It's all right," Matthew told him, smiling. "I'm sure I'll get used to it eventually. You think you can wait awhile?"

Smiling faltering, his hair coming in front of one of his eyes like a shield, he replied, "Oui, oui, of course, mon amou-ami!"

Matthew bit his lip as he looked at Rarity. "... Why do you keep almost calling me "amour"?"

He blushed slightly, playing with the end of his braid, now having a staring contest with the floor as he refused to answer.

Being met with a great big wall of silence, Matthew turned to Francis almost angrily. "Can you please just answer my questions, at least some of the time?"

Visibly flinching, he jumped slightly and nodded, now letting his bangs fall in front of his face, "B-Because... You're... My- You're... A close... Um, friend..."

Matthew creased his eyebrows together. "So..." he started holding his hand up to his mouth, "It's like, when British people address someone as "love"...?"

Francis blinked, blushing a now more prominent shade of red and laughing uneasily, "S-Sure..."

"Something tells me that's not right," Matthew said, frowning at him.

The blush upon his cheeks began to increase, forcing him to back up against a post as Matthew closed in on him.

Sighing, the quiet boy just looked at him. "Francis, if this friendship is going to work... we need to be able to talk." He eyes brightened as he came up with an idea. "How about you ask me a question, and then I'll ask you one. And we have to answer no matter what it is."

Francis' eyes brightened, and he looked up at Matthew, a smile now on his lips as he nodded, yet his blush was still there, "Alright! I would love to!" He then paused and asked, "May we sit in the hay?"

"I don't see why not," Matthew replied with a smile. "But first, I do want you to answer my question." He was grinning a little now, knowing that he had kind of trapped Francis with his little game and then being unrelentless on his question.

Francis' eyes widened and he blushed more, feeling a quiver run through him. Knowing Matthew would probably catch him if he ran away, he sighed and forced out, very quietly, "It means my love..."

"Duh, I knew that," Matthew said with a giggle as he walked over to the hay. "I just wanted to know why you're calling me that - you even did when we first met."

He gave an uneasy chuckle and tugged at his braid slightly, replying, "B-Because you're... You're, well... A..." his voice became quieter as he blushed more, "A strapping young man..."

Blushing slightly Matthew smiled at him. "Heh, thanks..." He hesitated a bit before testing out the phrase on his own tongue: "Mon amour."

Francis bit back a noise, his cheeks feeling on fire as he hugged himself, following him over to the hay with his eyes cast to the ground.

Matthew chuckled slightly as he laid down, enjoying the crisp feel of the hay. "You..." he said into the hay, "... you really aren't used to having friends, are you?"

Sitting beside him, Francis hugged his knees to his chest, closing his legs since he was still in a skirt and replied, "Oui, you're right."

"Well..." Matthew started before shaking his head slightly. "I've asked enough questions, do you have any?"

Sighing inwardly in relief, Francis gazed down at him with a small smile and asked, "What's one thing that makes you smile?"

Matthew was a little surprised by the question, but quickly smiled at him. "It's questions like that that show how nice you really are," he complimented before starting to think. "Well..." he giggled, "probably Kumi and pancakes."

Francis blushed more, because of the complement and some other _feelings, _and chuckled, bringing his hand to his lips as he did and replied, "That's so sweet, Matthieu... And Merci."

"You're welcome," Matthew replied with a cute smile. "Now, another question, uh," he blushed slightly as he looked down and started playing with his fingers. "Did... did you really have to kiss me to get that sword out of you?"

He watched as Francis' face alit with a dark blush and he nodded slowly, hugging his knees tightly and replying in a small voice, "Oui... It's a way to c-connect... Our... Hearts..."

Creasing his eyebrows again, Matthew turned to him. "What do you mean?"

Knowing he had to answer, he gazed down at his lap, resting his head on his knees and almost curling in a tight ball. "What that means, is that I... My heart accepted and trusted you... Enough for the blade to let you pull it out..."

"Oh..." Matthew said, thinking about that for a minute. How could he trust him so much after only knowing him for a few hours...? "I, I guess that makes sense... Not that I'm an expert on curses or anything."

Francis nodded, lifting his face to look Matthew in the eye, still blushing darkly as he nodded, "I know it's odd... But I really do trust you, Matthieu..."

_More than I-I can admit, _he thought, heart hammering in his chest, _But you probably don't-don't feel... Enlamored... Like I do..._

He knew he was right when Matthew just smiled kindly at him. "Heh, thanks, I guess..." The boy was a little surprised when his heart sped up a little, but he figured it was just because of how sincere Francis looked when he said that.

Francis hugged his braid before asking, "D-Did it feel too... Intrusive or-?"

Matthew blushed as he rubbed the back of his head. "Well... I, just wasn't..." he sighed and looked up at him, "We had just met, and I'm not one to even shakes hands... kissing is..." He stammered as he tried to explain himself. "... That was my first kiss..." he finally whispered, matching Francis and curling up into a ball.

Francis smiled slightly, nodding and confessing, "I'm just rather affectionate because... Because I yearn..." he gave a saddened smile, "I yearn to feel contact with other people, it's so warm... It's almost heavenly..."

"..." Matthew looked at him, feeling his heart twist as he realized that he speaking genuinely... That must have been very hard to admit for him, considering how nervous he always was when Matthew asked questions. And his want for contact... it was understandable, considering how cold he always felt to Matthew, and how he didn't have many friends. He began to feel even worse for the poor boy - the poor boy who was cursed, fought over, ignored, and florally abused...

Which is why he probably relented and said: "You know... you can..." he bit his lip as he thought over how he wanted to say this. "You can be "affectionate" towards me, I guess. I'll just have to adapt..."

Francis' oceanic orbs widened and he smiled a finally relaxed, less tense smile as tears welled and fell from his eyes.

"That means so much to me."

Noticing his tears, Matthew started wiping them away, almost as a reflex. "You should really stop crying so much," he muttered, looking into his eyes.

Smiling, he laughed, reaching out a hand and grasping Matthew's free one gently, "You're" right, but I'm rather overly dramatic!"

"Yeah, I know," Matthew said with a laugh as he dropped his other hand. "Well, anyways... who's turn is it to ask a question?" he asked with another laugh.

"Yours," he answered, feeling Matthew's hand reach up again and move a loose piece of Francis' hair behind his ear.

"All right then, hmm..." he said, drumming his fingertips against his lips in thought. He was having trouble thinking of a question now, he had pretty much asked him everything he wanted to... Wait. "Can you tell me more about Ivan and Toris?"

Francis' eyes brightened and he nodded, explaining, "Ivan was one of the second friends I made in a long while. He use to bully people, unintentionally unless you made him mad, and then noticed one day that all his "friends" were gone..." he sighed, unknowingly squeezing Matthew's hand, "And people began to spread rumors about him and make fun of him for being Russian. But I saw through all his problems," he smiled softly, "And showed him my sunflower patch. It really helped him, I would like to think."

Matthew smiled at him. "That's nice... Eheh, he's still kind of scary to me, though." He shivered slightly as he remembered his encounter with the Russian boy that morning.

Francis gave a sympathetic smile and nodded, "I know, but I have faith he'll shape up."

"Maybe," Matthew commented, looking up to the roof. It was amazing to him how he couldn't even feel Francis' hand on his anymore... maybe physical contact wasn't as bad as he thought it was.

The French boy noticed, smiling as he continued, "And Toris and I met cooking together, so I began to help him with his stutter and grow more open towards other people ever since he became an orphan."

"He's an orphan?" Matthew asked, feeling his stomach knot up. "That's so sad..."

The blonde nodded with a saddened smile, "Oui, a sickness overtook his village as a young boy, and he barely made it out alive. He told me he later took up swords play as a way to make money for himself, and so that's why he's so chivalrous and serving," he closed his eyes thoughtfully, "He wants to make things easier for others and help them anyway he can, no matter what. Even if he's rather timid."

"There's so many kind people here," Matthew commented, smiling at him. "That's nice to know."

_Francis seems more kind than any of them, though..._ he thought to himself absently. It seemed true, though, considering how gentle he was with everything, and how he tried to help everyone as well, even if most everyone else ridiculed him.

Francis' smile returned, become gentle as he nodded, "The numbers vary year to year, as do most people's actions, but you are right. They are all nice deep down."

Matthew giggled slightly as he laid down in the hay again, stretching and yawning. "You're turn."

Laying down with him, he laid on his side and tentatively hugged Matthew's arm, asking softly, "What is your Mother like?"

"She's one of the nicest people I know," Matthew said warmly, the smile on his face indicating that he was lost in his memories at the moment. "Whenever I'm sick, she'd always make sure I was taken care of and comfy, and she always pushes me to do my best while she tries _her_ best as well... She's nice to everyone, helping others and always doing things for others." He laughed and looked over at Francis. "In a way, I guess she's kind of like you. And she also raised me by herself, so she's really strong, too."

Francis blinked in surprise before smiling warmly, replying, "Thank you for comparing me to such an important person in your life." He tucked the other half of his bangs behind his other ear, showing that he had finally become relaxed, "I wish I could meet her and tell her that myself."

"During the next break, you can come to my house and meet her!" Matthew said excitedly. He had never really brought a friend home before... His mother would probably be happy.

Before he knew it though, he saw Francis' expression fall into open despair, making him squeeze Matthew's arm as he looked away.

"What?" the boy asked almost worriedly. "What's wrong?" And here he had finally gotten the boy to actually _relax _and then he said something else to get him like this... Would he ever say something right around him?

"I can't leave." he explained, burrowing his face into Matthew's shoulder.

"... You, you can't leave?" Matthew echoed, frowning and hesitantly hugging the boy. "... I'm sorry..."

Francis felt himself blush darkly as he felt arms wrap around his back and waist. Shakily, he replied, "I-It's alright... I'm used to it. That's why I read books about distant lands and faraway places, or write lists of places I want to go to when I'm finally free," his voice became softer, "And that's why I don't look forward to the holidays like everyone else."

Matthew blew air out of his cheeks before saying, "I'm so sorry... Is there anyways I can help you become... free?"

He felt Francis' muscles tense up as the boy flinched slightly, and whispered, almost as if it were a longing plea, "I know it's... A lot... But... Please.. Become my duelist..." he felt his voice choke in his throat as his stomach knotted up anxiously.

Matthew bit his bottom lip, feeling the other's anticipation and desperation. Of course he'd ask that... he and Arthur were convinced he was "the duelist" or whatever, and Francis obviously wanted this curse to end, which he supposed would happen after this duelist, well, dueled...? He didn't really understand all of it yet.

But he still was not a duelist!-! It's not like he could wield a weapon like Toris, the boy who looked so confident and collected with a sword in his hand... Heck, he hated hurting things in general and he had never even picked up a sword. … Well, besides the one he had pulled out of Francis.

And, for another thing... he really couldn't stand the sight of blood. It had always made him queasy, and faint, and... Just, blood was supposed to stay _inside _you, okay!

"Francis, I'm not a swordsman," Matthew finally told him quietly, already knowing that he'd react despondently. "I can't be a duelist... I don't even know what that fully means!"

Francis seized up more, threatening to close up, to block him out as a barricade as he asked in the quietest voice he could muster, "Do you know why I'm asking this of you?"

"... No, why are you?" Matthew replied just as quietly.

"B-Because... I have fallen... Only for you..." he admitted, clenching his arm, feeling as though his heart had stopped, "And I know you're my only chance."

"... O-only..." Matthew repeated hollowly, his vision starting to blur as his words fully processed in his brain. "Fallen...?" he muttered, holding a hand up to his head and closing his eyes as tight as he could. _How could anyone "fall" for me...?_ he wondered, _I'm... it's not like I'm... we've only known each other for a day! Not even!-!_

… Suddenly, all of the "mon amours" made sense.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he decided to only acknowledge the second thing Francis had said, since he probably meant "fallen" as in relation to something of the curse... right? Because there was absolutely no way he could mean... romantically. Nope, definitely not; his brain refused to believe it. "What do you mean I'm your only chance? How can you be so sure of that?"

Francis didn't look up. He was too afraid to. His heart was beating in his ears, his body trembling with anxiety and adrenaline from what he had confessed. He couldn't believe he had admitted that he was... He was attracted to Matthew, since he knew it was so soon, but at first sight...

Francis could sense it, he knew he was right.

"I'm sure of it, because others have tried to kiss me and pull the blade out, but none were accepted... My heart rejected them all... Except for you."

"... But..." Matthew started, starting to feel frustrated for some reason. "I, I can't be a duelist! I don't even know how to use a sword!-! I've told you that before!"

He nods, feeling ashamed, "Toris could teach you... And I know you have, but my heart still only accepts you."

Matthew began to feel tears appear on the edges of his eyes, so he quickly wiped them away before winding his arm out of Francis' grasp and curling up into a ball. "...Why me? I don't want to duel... I just wanted to go to school...!" _I mean, sure, a little excitement would be nice, _he thought to himself, _but this is just too much!_

Francis froze, his guilt and shame crashing down on him like waves against the shore. He shouldn't have said all those things. He knew he was putting too much of his feelings out there, and that Matthew wouldn't want to deal with them. The poor boy didn't deserve such responsibility.

Closing his eyes, he felt silent, guilt racked sobs pass through his body. Getting up, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him, not wanting to upset them both further.

Matthew watched him go as he wiped his eyes again. Looks like he had scared him off again... but maybe they both needed a little time to think.

… Why _did_ Francis' heart choose _him?_ It's not like he was anything special... he was just a plain boy doing plain things in his plain life. Shouldn't things like this be happening to someone more... fascinating? Or at least to someone who was good at sword fighting.

It had to be a mistake, it just had to be! It didn't make sense any other way. The sword thing was probably just a fluke, and...

Why was all of this suddenly becoming so _normal_ to him!? It seemed only yesterday - wait, it was only yesterday... - when he had been completely discrediting any thing related to "curses," and now he was not only believing in them, but he was completely enamored and involved with one. And what was he supposed to do, anyways? Was he meant to become a duelist? But if he was, shouldn't he have had some sort of previous training? Or will his lack of training give him some sort of weird edge against the others? Will his upbringing play a hand into all of this? Or would he just get slaughtered in his first "duel" and it was crazy of him to even consider for one second to pick up a sword and start hacking away at... who would he be hacking away at, anyways? Enemies? Foes? Rapscallions?

Matthew sighed. "I need to ask someone, what should I do..."

He was met with silence, not noticing that Francis had climbed up into the rafters and was watching him silently, his own mind ticking away.

Matthew looked over at Rarity and smiled weakly. "Rarity, what do you think I should do? Whinny twice for "become a duelist" and neigh once for "you're completely mad."

The horse stood silent and stared, before flicking her eyes up at the rafters and whinnying twice.

"... Of course you'd say that..." Matthew muttered, falling into the hay and screaming into it. "If I get killed I'm going to haunt you for the rest of my life!-!"

The horse gave an annoyed snort and stamped a hoof. Looking up at Francis who was peeking out from one of the rafters curiously.

Matthew started to laugh like he _was_ completely mad. "Look at me - I'm talking to a horse and asking it such an important question...! I mean, it's not like I can understand you like Francis can..." He sighed and stood up, stretching a bit. "But I'll count your vote anyways... and I think I know what Arthur's vote would be, so that's two against one..." He started walking away, muttering, "I'll go see what Alfred and Toris think I should do..."

Francis felt a surge of hope rush through him as he watched Matthew begin to leave, a small smile managing its way through his left over tears. Climbing back down, he padded after Matthew silently, no longer wanting to be alone with his thoughts.

**Author's Note, TheGuardianKnux: Catch the references in the horses. ;3 And poor Mattie, you're life may or may not change for the better. XD**

Anyways, read and review!


	5. Frog Legs or Log Dregs?

"What do you think I should do, Alfred?" Matthew asked as said boy cooked a burger in the library. He had only guessed that the American would be in here, since Ivan had mentioned something about Alfred liking to eat, which is why the kitchen was there in the first place. It was kind of strange, though, since he didn't really look like one to read all that much. "On one hand," he continued, "becoming a duelist does sound rather adventurous..." His voice got much quieter as he said, "But on the other, I could get killed... I mean," he added, almost as an afterthought, "It's not like I don't want to _help_ Francis, because I do, it's just... I'm not that confident in myself..."

Alfred looked up from his burger making and nodded, taking a swig of Ivan's vodka and swallowing before answering, "Well, challengers aren't allowed to kill their opponents. They'll be disqualified if they do..." he then sniffled, "Like I've been from Artie's _life!_" he began to sob violently, downing more of the alcohol in an attempt to get drunk.

Matthew quickly slipped the bottle from his hand and hid it in his pocket, whacking at his hands when he tried to reach for it. "Oh, come on..." Matthew mumbled, still swatting his persistent hands like flies. "I'm sure you haven't been "disqualified"... Arthur just needs some time to, uh, think?"

His lower lip quivered as his eyes watered, and he nodded. Going back to his cooking, he replied, "I really hope so..."

Matthew smiled weakly. "I'll go talk to him later on, if you'd like... is there anything you'd want me to tell him?"

Alfred bit his lip, twitching as his cowlick drooped and he said quietly, "That I love him..."

"... Will do..." Matthew mumbled, biting his bottom lip. He looked around at all the books for a second before coughing slightly and saying, "So, um... about this duelist thing, do you think I should do it?" He had to say he was greatly relieved to hear that he probably wouldn't die, but he was still a little hesitant... Even if he couldn't die, he could still end up in the hospital with fatal wounds, couldn't he?

Alfred looked up and gave a small smile, nodding enthusiastically and replying, "Well, hell's yeah! You want to help Franny, right? So why not! And if it's the whole "mortally wounded" thing you're worrying about, 'frog prince' can heal you." he looked over his glasses that had slid to the end of his nose and grinned, "He's pretty good at that sort of thing."

"'Frog prince'?" Matthew asked, leaning on the counter-isle. "That sounds familiar..." The memory of Arthur calling Francis a "frog" yesterday morning resounded in his brain. "Francis?"

Blinking, Alfred laughed and nodded, his cowlick wiggling, "Yep! One of his many nicknames."

"... Why is he called the frog prince?" Matthew asked before mumbling, "Rose prince would make more sense..."

"Well some of our competitors call him the 'Rose Bride,' which," he frowned, a disapproving look in his eyes, "Which isn't a good thing..."

"Why not?"

Alfred's eyes darkened, as he replied cheerlessly, "Because they're trying to say that they'll own him by winning the duel, an _engagement _of sorts."

Matthew creased his eyebrows together. "Okay... I'm confused, what would they win normally, then? Why is everyone dueling for him, anyways?"

Alfred smirked, replying pridefully, "We don't let them win," he then went back to flipping his burger and explaining, "As for why they're fighting for him, it's because he holds the blade, and even if you pull it out," he flipped the burger, making it sizzle as he continued, "It's still part of him, that he's probably sheathed already to keep it safe. And, deep down, Arthur figures that even it he doesn't remember how to do it, he can grant whoever wins him the power to pierce the Heavens with said blade," he shrugged, giving a simple smile, "And as for why they want him, well, you got to admit, he's quite the looker."

Matthew scoffed a little. "Obviously," he said before slumping his head on the counter. So it wasn't even him they were after, it was just the stupid blade... What did "piercing the heavens" mean, anyways? And if "they" already "had him," then why were there still challengers? There was still so much Matthew wanted to know.

"... So how does dueling for him achieve his freedom? From the curse, I mean."

, "And if we keep him close, we have more of a chance of researching and unraveling the mystery to said curse, since he has lost memories.""It keeps him close to us so that the other competitor won't take him." Alfred answered.

Staring at him, Matthew waited to be told more. When he realized he wasn't going to say anything else, he asked, "So, then, how long would one have to duel before the curse was lifted? I'm not really following..." Did he simply mean that they just need Francis close to them until they _figure out_ a way to end his curse? And if that was the case... Then what would that mean for him? If he agreed, he could potentially be "dueling" for the rest of his life?

"Till we find a way to lift tthe curse and dispose of the blade, I suppose." he answered, giving him shrug and turning off the stove.

"Well if that's the case, I think I'd be much more helpful if I worked on the actual curse-lifting process, instead of dueling," Matthew's eyes brightened as the creative side of his mind started turning cranks. "I've always loved the idea of magic, and if you combine that with some scientific properties it might be simpler than we think... and Toris seems like he would be a better duelist than me even if I practiced for three lifetimes."

Alfred clicked his tongue and shook his head, "No can do, mi amigo," he slid a spatula under his patty, "You see, Francis didn't choose Toris. His heart has to accept someone, and unfortunately for you, it's you."

Matthew groaned again and stared at the boy's burger just so he didn't have to look at him anymore. "Four against one..." he mumbled. He wished he could have a word with Francis' heart, maybe knock some sense into it... Or have a delightful chat over a cup of tea while he convinced it that he wasn't suitable for this job.

"And dude, even if you're ballsy enough to go talk to Ivan about it, and if he calls you a pussy or something," he then gave a smirk, "You'd still be out voted."

"You think I don't know that?!" Matthew snapped before holding a hand up to his head, his eye starting to twitch. "I wasn't going to ask Ivan, anyways. I was going to ask Toris... but he'd probably just offer to give me lessons, or something, so there's no point anymore." He stood up straight and held a hand out to Alfred. "Well, perhaps this is just something that's out of my control... And I guess as long as I can get healed it won't be too bad, so thank you for this talk, Alfred."

Alfred's eyes widened and having took a swig of soda nearby earlier, spit it out at the wall in surprise and asked in disbelief, "Wait, bro, seriously?!"

"..." Matthew smiled sheepishly before discreetly moving his outstretched hand to the back of his head. "Well... I mean, I probably won't be any good, but there's no harm in trying, since all of you probably won't leave me alone until I at least do that much..."

Coughing, Alfred nodded and grinned widely, replying, "Well, yeah dude, you're probably right... Though," he gave a mischievous look and snickered, "I know you also want to do this because you have the hots for Franny, don't you~?"

Blushing, Matthew sputtered, "O-of course not!-! Why would you -?"

"Dude," he interrupted slyly, placing his burger on a plate, "I said he was hot, didn't I? And think about it, his _heart _only chose _you~" _snickering, he sang, "So much ho yay~ maybe you two will become my OTP~"

"..." Matthew's curiosity greatly wanted him to ask what "ho yay" and "OTP" meant, but a different side of him made him say, "I... I don't like him like that. We just met, I... I need to know someone for a longer time than that, first..." He started twirling a finger around his cowlick, blushing just a bit more and mumbling quietly, "I mean... I guess I could see myself liking him later... But right now, just friends."

Alfred gasped and cooed, wiggling his brows, "Oooooooo you just, like, admitted it~"

Matthew narrowed his eyes, asking with a deadpanned expression, "What was that you wanted me to tell Arthur? Something about you never wanting to see him again...?"

The American gaped like a freshly caught fish and squeaked, "You wouldn't dare Matt..."

"You're right," Matthew told him with a grin. "I wouldn't _normally_... but if someone were to happen to mention this conversation to Francis, I might just have a change of character."

Alfred's eyes widened and he promised quickly, "I swear it's a secret between you and I-I frackin' _swear _on my action figure collection!"

"... Thanks," Matthew replied, starting to feel a little guilty for his blackmail. He shouldn't toy with the boy's heart... But, if Francis did hear him say that, he'd have to deal with another problem that he did _not_ want to handle on top of all this duelist business. And, if he was being completely honest with himself, he could picture him liking pretty much anyone if he got to know them well enough. Alfred, Toris, Arthur... he could "see" himself liking any of those nice people, it's not like he meant there was anything specific...

At least, not yet, anyways.

"Well," Matthew started, clearing his throat. "I'll go and find Arthur and tell him how much you love him, now."

Alfred's eyes sparkled and he nodded, cowlick wagging like a miniature tail, "Thanks bro, you're the best!"

Matthew giggled slightly and waved behind him as he headed out of the library. "You're welcome, and thanks yourself." For some reason, he couldn't stop smiling as he walked, his insides bubbling with anticipation. But for what, exactly? Dueling, being involved with all of this magic, or something else entirely? Or maybe he was coming down with a cold. He had to admit, though; he could see himself having at least a _little _bit of fun learning how to use a sword. The actual battling worried him still...

Suddenly he heard soft footsteps padding behind him, coming from feet he could swear weren't... Wearing anything...

"Francis?" Matthew called, turning around sharply. "Is that you?"

"Behind you, yes," Francis answered, causing the other to turn around again, startled.

"Oh!" Matthew exclaimed, holding a hand over his now fastly beating heart. "Geez, you scared me... how long were you following me?"

He gave a grin and chuckled, replying, "I'm rather quick in case your were wondering how I did that, and as for how long..." he rubbed his arm sheepishly, "I hid in the rafters when you were talking to Rarity."

Eyes widening, Matthew pointed at him accusingly. "Did you tell her to whinny twice!? That is not fair!-!"

The blonde's grin looked slightly guilty as he nodded, giggling slightly, "Oui, I heard her... She was calling you dense for not noticing me."

Matthew slapped his forehead, sighing. "Well, I didn't expect you to... Oh, what does it matter - I'm still outnumbered."

Smile turning sympathetic, he replied, "I suppose so... Heheh..."

Frowning, Matthew crossed his arms and turned away from him. "You know, if I'm you're duelist, you're probably not very safe."

Pouting, he shook his head and crossed his arms, replying stubbornly, "Non! My heart is never wrong!"

"... But didn't you mention that you kissed a lot of other people to try and get the sword out...?"

He frowned, huffing, "They forced themselves on to me to try that!"

"Oh..." Matthew replied, frowning. He turned to him sympathetically. "I'm sorry... that sounds terrible. "

Francis gave a worn smile and nodded, "Oui, mostly because half of them were terrible kissers and the others didn't take breath mints..." he then gave a disgusted look and stuck out his tongue, "Not to mention, just, ugh-terrible l'amour!" he shook his head, shivering.

Giggling slightly, Matthew started walking again. "Of course that would be your complaint... Hey, do you know where Arthur is, by any chance?"

Francis pouted and followed him, snorting and replying, "Excusez-moi! L'amour is very important to me!" he then shook his head, grasping Matthew by the hand and leading him towards their right, "An knowing him, he's probably skulking in the school dungeon."

"This school has a dungeon!?" Matthew asked excitedly. "That's so cool!"

Francis gave him a preturbed look and asked, "Rooms of imprisonment and torture are 'cool'?" he asked, making air quotes around the word cool with a confused tone, "You twenty first century folk confuse me..."

Feeling very sheepish now, Matthew replied, "Well... it's only cool historically speaking, I guess... the idea of dungeons still being around but not used is interesting."

Blinking, his mouth formed an "o" and he nodded, muttering to himself in French before replying with a smile, "Oui, oui, now I understand." he then explained, eyes looking slightly unfocused and far away as he did do, "Oolala~! I haven't seen a beheading in ages~"

Matthew's blood ran cold as he halted in his tracks. "B-beheading..."

Blinking, he blushed and held his hands out defensively, shaking them nervously, "I-I am sorry! I was talking about the execution of-of criminals that I was forced to see as a petit enfant! I-I could understand how that would scare you!"

"N-no kidding..." he stuttered, hugging himself as his mind whirled. Pictures of himself, his mother, and anyone else he held close dear getting their heads _torn off_ entered his mind despite himself, and he closed his eyes tightly to try and get them out.

"If it's any consolation... I hid the guillotine..." Francis mumbled, looking away, "Sometimes I forget that this isn't the days of kings anymore..."

"I-it's all right..." Matthew mumbled, adjusting his glasses and calming down considerably. "It's my fault for calling dungeons "cool." I guess the word really has been downgraded to mean something more harmless..."

Francis nodded, giving him a concerned look, "Maybe it is better that way, oui? So that children such as I once was do not have to see such things anymore..."

Matthew blew some hair out of his face. "Definitely..." He swore, the more he heard about Francis' life, the more he pitied him and felt more confident that he should become a duelist. If he _was_ the only one who could help him, anyways, then there wasn't really much of a choice, was there?

Francis touched Matthew's cheek and then his forehead, as if taking his temperature. His features showed he was concerned for the Canadian's well being. "Are you...?"

Shivering slightly from his cold hands, Matthew just looked at him curiously. "Am I what?"

"F-Feeling alright?" he sputtered slightly, blushing and removing his hands, "I didn't want to frighten you..."

"Yeah, I'm doing fine, I just..." he smiled weakly, "whenever I read or hear about someone getting hurt, I immediately imagine the people I love going through that same... pain, and..."he closed his eyes again. "Its very, ah, painful for me, as well... to imagine such things."

Francis gasped and hugged him tightly, cooing softly in French into his ear, "It's alright, I'll s-shield you from those things..."

Sniffling slightly, he gently hugged him back. "Thanks..." It was kind of weird how a hug from Francis could feel both cold and warm at the same time...

Francis continued to hug him, till he noticed he hasn't let go and released Matthew, blushing and smiling sheepishly.

Giggling slightly Matthew poked his nose. "Do you always blush after you hug someone?"

He smiled more and shook his head, replying, "Um, only you..."

"..." Biting his lip for the umpteenth time that day, Matthew looked down again, Francis' previous "confession" entering his mind again... maybe he really did mean romantically...

Shaking his head, he simply shrugged it off again and smiled. He refused to believe that was true; it was his firm belief that love at first sight did not exist, and that you needed to know a person very well before those types of feelings even _began_ to develop. "Well, anyways, where would Arthur be?" he laughed a little. "I have some love to confess to him."

Francis stared for a moment, his heart starting to hammer in his chest. Eyes widened, he asked slowly, "Pardon? What d-do you mean?"

"Hm?" Matthew mumbled, looking at him. "Oh, Alfred wanted me to tell Arthur how much he loves him." _Why does he looked freaked out?_ he asked himself briefly. Although, considering he normally looks like that, it didn't come as much of a surprise.

Francis gave a rather loud sigh of relief and smiled oddly, rolling on the balls of his feet and looking away.

"How long have those two known each other, anyways?" Matthew asked curiously. "They seem rather close, so I'm imagining a pretty long time?"

He grinned and nodded, replying cheerily, "Oui! Ever since they were babies!"

"Aww!" Matthew exclaimed, giggling and holding his hands up to his mouth, his eyes closed. "That's so _cute~!_"

Francis gazed at him as he did so, smiling warmly and thinking, _Not as cute as you..._

Suddenly, they both could hear very distinct muttering coming from a nearby room. "Does that say "frog's legs" or "log's dregs"...? Ugh, curse this blasted spell book!"

"Oh, that sounds like Arthur!" Matthew exclaimed, fast walking towards the sound. He opened a random wooden door and was met with the sight of a very dark, musty, stone room. There were no windows, and the only light source inside was two small candles on either side of a large, rectangular table that Arthur was standing in front of. The table, held bottles and beakers of all sorts of different liquids, as well as a few more books and jars containing who-knows-what. There was also various small shelves on the walls, containing other materials of all shapes and sizes, though there were mainly jars on them, as well.

Matthew could also faintly see Arthur slumped over a small podium holding a very old-looking, dusty, smudged, leather book, wincing at it and trying to decipher the tattered ink.

"Well, this spell has been mostly plant-based so far, so I'm going to guess that it's log's dregs," he said to himself decisively before sifting around the various jars on the table. "That's rarely used, though - it's probably on one of the shelves."

Francis, still blushing, peered inside and called out sweetly, "Arthur~ We've come to console you in your time of loneliness~"

Arthur jumped a few inches in the air before turning around almost guiltily and immediately trying to hide a particular bottle behind his back. "Oh, th-that's quite all right! I'm doing f-fine, you can leave, now..."

"Non~ I don't want to~" he replied, fully stepping in and dragging Matthew with him, "You have some sexual tensions you need to relieve mon ami~"

Glaring, Arthur snapped: "For the _millionth_ time, Francis, I do not have any sexual tensions!-! That's all in your bloody, frog-faced head!"

Francis stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry, arguing, "It is not! Since I am the _heart _of our group, I know of your affections for Alfred~"

Groaning, Arthur wiped his hand down his face. "Please, just leave..."

"What were you doing, anyways?" Matthew interrupted, walking over and peering at the spell book curiously. He managed to read the words "Forget -" before Arthur snapped it shut.

"Nothing!-! It's none of your business!" he told him, blushing.

Francis' ears perked up and quickly he snatched the book from the table, whisking it away and singing, "Sorry, but making him forget is the cowards way out if love dear Arthur~"

Sighing, Arthur placed the bottle he had grabbed initially on the table and pulled a chair out from under it. "I know..." he said, sitting down dejectedly. "But you don't understand..."

Raising a brow, Francis sat down upon the table and asked, running his fingers through Arthur's hair, "And how do I not? I am much older than you."

"Because!" Arthur snapped again, glaring at him and hitting his hands out of his hair. "A long time ago, I tried to make a special potion, but I bugged it up somehow, and now everyone I ever admit that I love gets cursed with bad luck! So "love" is not an option for me!-!" Tears appeared on the edge of his eyes, though he quickly wiped them away and buried his head in his hands.

Francis clicked his tongue and shook his head, replying softly into Arthur's ear and putting his hands on his shoulders gently, "So? I doubt that is much of a curse, and besides..." he spoke gently and nuzzled Arthur's cheek rather lovingly, "You know Alfred would withstand any horrid luck just to be with you."

Sniffling, Arthur looked up at Francis beneath his bangs. "... Do you really think so?"

Francis smiled and hugged Arthur, confirming, "Oui, I know so. He says he is your hero after all."

Arthur's blush was so bright that even Matthew could see it, despite the horrid lighting in the room. "He only calls me that because he thinks I saved him from a bird... The thing was never even planning on hurting him."

"Words of praise can turn to endearment after a while," the French boy replied with a grin, his eyes looking up and meeting Matthew for a moment till his cheeks reddened and he looked away.

Arthur just sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I suppose you're right..." he laughed a little before sitting up straight. "Look at me, shedding tears over something so stupid..."

Francis shook his head, laughing slightly and then kissing both of Arthur's cheeks, arguing, "Non~ It isn't stupid, and you know you should talk to your little 'amburger~" he wiggled his eyebrows, using above exaggerated French accent just to annoy the Brit.

Blushing furiously, Arthur swung a fist at Francis who dodged it just in time. "And what the hell do you mean by _that!?_" he yelled, "And how many times have I told you to learn a more English way of speaking? Your bloody French accent always butchers my language!-!"

Francis sighed dramatically and replied with a whine, "But I do not want to zound like ze uncultured English brute!" He turned to Matthew and asked, using his best puppy dog eyes, "Vous agree, oui?"

"... Um..." Matthew muttered, smiling slightly at the humorousness of the conversation. "I'm Canadian, so... I like both accents."

Francis smiled at him, and them kissed Arthur's cheek again and flicked his nose before running up the ancient, stone stairs, "Vive la France!"

"Get back here, you mockery of a prince!-!" Arthur yelled as he chased after him.

Matthew sighed contentedly before following after them. One thing was for certain; Rosa Academy was anything but boring.

Eventually, he heard a thud and dramatic, overly-emotional sobbing as Francis whined, "Get off of me, you hedgehog!"

"Who are you calling a hedgehog, frog!?" Arthur yelled, strangling the Frenchman as he straddled him much like he had done to Alfred earlier.

"Non! Not my beautiful neck!" he cried out, squirming helplessly under him. Seeing Matthew, he begged, using his best pleading voice, "Please help me, my prince charming~"

Matthew just laughed slightly before walking over and tapping Arthur on the shoulder. "This may not be the best time to tell you, but... Alfred wanted me to tell you that he loves you very much."

Arthur immediately stopped choking Francis, his eyes going out of focus. "... R-really?" he muttered, letting him go and looking up at Matthew almost hopefully.

Matthew smiled at him and nodded. "Oh yeah! You should have seen him, he looked so heartbroken when I talked to him..." remembering something, he reached into his pocket, "I even had to swipe this from him, he was so sad." He handed Arthur the vodka bottle, watching with amusement as he frowned.

"How many times do I have to tell him how awful this stuff is?" he asked as he took the alcohol. He glared at it for a few moments before his eyes softened and he smiled gently, holding it up to his cheek, "That's still a little sweet, though, I guess... For him."

Francis smiled, watching him from his spot on the floor and chimed in, "Oui~ You should go tell him that~"

Blushing as he realized that he had done something extremely embarrassing in front of _Francis_ of all people, he quickly got off of him. "N-no way, I could never -"

"Oh!" Matthew intervened with a grin. "I'll tell him, if you want!"

Arthur paled as he looked at Matthew. "No, p-please don't -"

Francis smirked, rolling off the floor and replying, "Then I will," running down the hall, he sang, "Vive l'amour!"

"_Francis!_" Arthur yelled, almost panicked, as he chased after him again. "_I swear, if you even say one word I'll just give you away to the next challenger!-!_"

Matthew's eyes widened. That seemed a pretty severe repercussion... Although, considering how Francis just laughed it off, he supposed that Arthur always said things he didn't mean when he was angry.

With that in mind, he followed after them, calling to Francis - "He's probably still in the library!"

"Merci, mon amour!" he yelled back happily, laughing as he outran Arthur with ease.

"No!" Arthur called out pathetically, stepping his pace up. "Please don't!-! _I'll tell him myself!-!_" he yelled. He immediately regretted saying that, however, when Francis turned around, a gleam in his eyes. Arthur stopped in his tracks, feeling like a trapped animals as he slowly stepped back. "I - I didn't mean that!"

Francis laughed jovially, and ran over, grasping Arthur by the arm and dragging him into the library almost as quick as a whirlwind. Matthew was barely able to keep up with him, he was moving so fast. He did see that Arthur was trying to dig his heels into the ground to deter the determined Frenchman, but it was to no avail. Matthew amused himself immensely by imagining smoke clouds coming out from Arthur's heels, though.

"Francis! Stop! I don't want to tell him _now!-!_" the British man tried to explain, pushing at the hand that was clamped tightly around his wrist. "I-I'm not ready!-!"

"Better now than never!" he replied, smiling determinedly, eyes displaying a shining fire of a spirit, "And I will not take no for an answer, Anglophone!"

"In that case," Arthur said, reaching into his pocket. "Take that!" He took out his magic wand again and waved it at Francis, sparks coming out and hitting him on the head. They didn't seem to have much of an effect, though. "_Damn this wand!-!-!_"

Francis blinked and stared, asking, "What was that suppose to do Arthur?" he began to touch his head, feeling through his hair with a perplexed expression, and gazing at Matthew as if he would give him an answer.

"It was _supposed_ to paralyze you for a few seconds so I could escape," Arthur explained, looking at his wand with contempt. "But now I have no idea what it just did."

Francis' eyes widened and he asked worryingly, "W-What if I turn into an adorable, slimy snail?!"

Arthur's eyes widened as he saw glasses appear on Francis' face. "... I don't think you have to worry about tha..." he trailed off as Francis' hair turned a more golden shade of blonde. Almost like... Alfred's. _"I HATE THIS WAND." _

Francis noticed and began to cry, running around in panicked circles, "Zap me again! Change my appearance back!"

"_Hold still!-!_" Arthur ordered him as he whacked the wand against his hand. "This thing better work!" He shot more sparks at Francis, covering his eyes afterwards. "Did it work?" he asked almost fearfully.

"... Um," Matthew said, looking at him, "I think so?"

Francis did indeed look like himself again, but now he had a ton of roses in his hair and wore a crisp, white veil.

Francis felt behind his head and his hair and paled, turning slowly to the two of them, absolutely shocked.

"What?" Arthur asked, peeking between his fingers. "What happened? … Oh, sorry."

Francis felt some more and then twirled around, the skirts of his gown picking up height. Smiling, he turned more till he felt dizzy and laughed, leaning against the wall.

"You look really pretty, Francis," Matthew told him with a giggle.

Francis blushed and gazed at him, dipping his head down and replying, "M-Merci, my prince~"

Matthew laughed a bit more before noticing Arthur trying to escape out of the corner of his eye. "The prisoner of love is escaping!-!" he called before running and tackling him to the ground.

"OW!" Arthur screamed, turning to Matthew and glaring. "I did not expect _you_ to do that!"

Matthew grinned. "What can I say? I have quick reflexes."

Francis put a hand to his mouth and giggled, watching them before declaring, "My shining knight, may we take him to his one true love?"

"Oui!" Matthew replied, laughing.

"No!" Arthur muttered, digging his nails into the floor and trying to crawl out from under Matthew. "Please, _please_, I'll do anything!-!"

"Non~ I, the prince, command you to see him." Francis replied with a smirk, raising his hand to the "sky" and declaring, "Now, Sir Matthieu, _vive l'amour!_"

"Aye aye!" Matthew replied, having a ball. He kind of felt a little bad for Arthur, but he had to admit that this whole thing was just so much fun!-! It was probably mostly thanks to how dramatic Francis was about it, though.

"No, please, I'm begging you -!" Arthur tried again, only to be interrupted by the last voice he wanted to hear at the moment...

"Dudes?! W-_Arthur_?!" Alfred squeaked, looking at the ragtag group of in the hallway in disbelief.

"Oh no..." Arthur muttered, letting his head fall to the ground. "Kill me, just kill me now..." he said to no one in particular.

"Hi, Alfred!" Matthew greeted cheerfully before pulling Arthur up from off the floor. "I relayed your message."

Alfred's mouth twitched as he held up a hand, only for it to fall limply to his side. Shaking his head, he breathed deeply and replied with a tired smile, "Good."

"I would have preferred it in person," Arthur muttered angrily before he put a hand over his mouth, blushing deeply.

Alfred blushed slightly and smiled more, asking, "May I, then?"

"... M-m-may you what?!" Arthur asked, staring at him with wide eyes.

He took Arthur's hand and acted as if he were proposing, then getting down on one knee. Placing his lips softly on Arthur's hand, he removed them and looked up, confessing in all his dorky, "brace face," glory, "Arthur Kirkland, I've loved you ever since we first met each other, and want nothing better than to be your boyfriend till I find a green lantern ring and propose to you," he then gazed deeply into his eyes, "So, will you please, please be my waifu?"

Feeling as frozen as an ice cube and yet mysteriously hot all over, he just kept staring at Alfred, unsure if his ears were playing tricks on him, or if all that time spent in that dungeon room was starting to get to him. "A... Alfred..." he muttered softly, "I... Don't know what to say..."

"Maybe hai?" he asked, batting his lashes and adding, "Arthur-chan?"

Laughter bubbled up inside Arthur and erupted in a flurry of tears and stomach cramps. He held a hand up to wipe his eyes as he smiled at his darling, dorky Alfred. "Y-yes, of course... but who are you calling "chan"? You're the one who I walked in on trying to wear a dress one day."

Alfred blushed darkly, giving a nervous laugh and then admitting, "B-but I was cosplaying..."

Arthur laughed boisterously before leaning down and smirking at him. "I know, but surely there was a boy you could have dressed up as instead?"

Alfred's blush increased and he mumbled something incoherent, gazing to the side.

"What was that, love?" Arthur asked smiling warmly at him as he ruffled his hair a bit. "I couldn't hear your stunning voice - you're usually so loud."

Alfred pouted and blushed more, leaning up and kissing Arthur on the lips softly and whispering, "It was comfortable, ok?!"

Looking at him through half-lidded eyes now, Arthur grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into another, more rough kiss. "That's okay," Arthur whispered back, smiling and staring into his eyes, "because _this _is very comfortable for me."

Alfred smiled lopsidedly and giggled, nuzzling him and kissing him sweetly, before grabbing his hand, "Thanks, Arthur-_senpai._"

Laughing more, Arthur let go of him and stood up straight, dusting himself off. "And don't you forget it." He held a hand up to his mouth in an attempt to wipe the grin off of his face, but he found that it just wouldn't go away. He had never thought... that this could ever happen, and now here he was... here _they_ were...

Alfred felt as giddy as a school girl, blushing and wringing his hands and licking his braces. Gazing into his eyes, he thought of a million nerdy pet names per minute and asked, "Would you like to share my Pocky with me?"

Arthur laughed. "I'd love to, big dork that you are." He looked over to Francis and Matthew, blushing slightly as he said, "I suppose I should thank you two..."

Matthew smiled. "You're welcome - I'm happy for you." He did always enjoy it when he saw two people get together, especially when they were as compatible as Arthur and Alfred were. Oh, who was he kidding - he just liked it when people were happy, and they definitely seemed happiest together.

Francis nodded, giving a heartwarming smile and sighing happily, "Nothing warms my heart more than two souls coming together as one~"

And he wasn't lying. Francis remembered all the stories, some fictional, some not, in the library about people falling in love and coming together, no matter what the obstacles. It just seemed so inspiring to him.

Gazing at the two, he felt warmth spread throughout him.

Smiling at Matthew, he asked, "Shall we leave our love birds alone?"

Giggling, Matthew nodded. "Yes, yes we shall." He waved a little at the two, who seemed to only have eyes for each other now, before walking away, Francis close behind. "So," he started, smiling at him, "Is there anything you'd like to do?"

Blinking, he gave a surprised look and asked, "Really?" pondering, Francis gazed about till he came to an idea and asked, "Can we make wreaths of flowers together?"

"I don't see why not," Matthew replied. "Though you'll have to teach me how to make them."

Francis nodded enthusiastically and took him by the hand, replying, "It would be an honor to mon amour!"

"I'm sure," Matthew said with a playful role of his eyes. He was glad to see Francis so happy about this, since it seemed his life was plagued with too much sadness for Matthew's taste.

His eyes widened slightly as he thought of something, though. "Wait... if you can talk to plants, though, won't it be like... killing the flowers?"

Francis shook his head and replied a matter of factly, "Well, I can grow my own as well."

"... Okay then." He still didn't get it... maybe he could only talk to plants and animals owned by Rosa Academy...? This curse was so weird. Well, not to say that curses in general were normal, it was just... this one seemed very _ab_normal - that is to say... Oh, you know what he means!

Chuckling, Francis took him by the hand and lead him outside.

**Author's Note, Annzy: Annzy says that Matthew might not fall in love with Francis for awhile~ :D You'll just have to wait and see!**

**Author's Note, TheGuardianKnux: THANK YOU FOR SO MANY REVIEWS! TT^TT And for RusLiet, we'll see~ ;3 And for the genius who figured out my homages/blantent rip off of Utena: I LOVE YOU! *Hugs* YAY! SOMEONE CAUGHT ON! I LOVE UTENA! :D**

**Anyways, read and review! :D**


	6. Blood and Steal

Yawning, Matthew climbed into their bed and

almost slammed his head down on the pillow, if it wasn't so soft. Making flower wreaths had taken more out of him than he thought... He had never imagined it to be so hard in the first place. It didn't help that Francis mass-produced them by the hundreds; it was almost like he was working for a flower company.

He glanced outside their window, smiling a bit. It was a full moon tonight, and a bright one at that. He had always thought the moon looked beautiful, and seeing things through moonlight was as equally stunning. It was almost as if he was looking at a completely different world at night, and he loved it. "Hey, Francis!" he called, since he was getting ready for bed in the bathroom, "The moon's really pretty tonight!" He figured Francis would enjoy the sight, since he seemed to love things of beauty.

"Is that so, mon amour?" he called back, opening the door and coming out with his hair wrapped up in a towel as he carried his hair supply basket in with a towel wrapped around his waist. Sitting down on the bed, Francis took out some royal blue ribbon and cut it a certain length. Tying it to a lock of his hair, he began weaving it into a braid with the rest of his hair.

"Yeah!" Matthew said happily. "The moon is always the prettiest when it's full."

Francis choked and cringed, almost stopping his braiding progress to whip his head over to the window and stare out of it, eyes wide.

Matthew stared at him in wonder, wondering why he reacted like that. "Francis? Are you okay?"

Francis stayed silent, turning away from him and hugging himself, not saying anything.

Sitting up, Matthew tried again. "Francis, what's wrong?" After still being met with silence, he crawled over and placed a hand precariously on his shoulder. "Is something bothering you?"

Francis turned and rubbed an eye, smiling softly, "I'm just tired. Let's go to bed, please?"

Frowning, Matthew just nodded. "All right, if you're sure..."

Francis nodded, finishing his braid. He then picked up one of Matthew's sweaters and pulled it on, already feeling warmer.

"Uh," Matthew said almost awkwardly. "That's my sweater..."

Francis blushed slightly and nodded, "Um... I know... But it's _warm~"_

"... Okaaay... Don't you have any of your own sweaters?"

He gave a slight smirk and giggled, hugging it to himself, "But it's big~ and it's warm and smells like maple syrup and shaved wood!"

Matthew chuckled a little and laid back down. "Well, all right... if you say so." He figured there wasn't any actual _harm_ in letting him wear his sweater, right? He was going to wash it soon anyways.

Smiling more, Francis hopped into their bed, placing the basket onto the floor, and then wrapped his arms around Matthew's shoulders. Nuzzling the back of the taller boy's neck, he placed his face into his hair and smelt it. Humming a lullaby, he deducted the different cents of his roommate with ease.

Maple wood shampoo... A hint of lilac... It smelt heavenly, and made a blush rise to Francis' face as he thought of one day being able to investigate other smells of his crush with better ease.

Matthew, meanwhile, was blushing slightly, still not used to such _close_ contact. However, if there was one thing he noticed from today alone (and looking back at previous days), it was that Francis seemed to almost... crave attention. It was as if he was constantly starved for it. And whenever Matthew tried to push him away only slightly, he would instantly digress into a more depressing way of thinking, and probably start telling himself all sorts of ridiculous things like, "Everyone hates me" and "of course no one would ever want to be near me" and the like.

So, instead of pushing him away like he wanted to, Matthew just sighed and closed his heavy eyes, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep

Hugging him tightly, Francis let him go and nuzzled down into the covers, hugging Matthew's arm instead and gazing up at him thoughtfully.

The other boy was almost asleep, his eyelids already being filled with previews of what he'd be dreaming about tonight. Oh, look, roses... Of course.

Soon he entered into that world without a problem, his breathing evening out to show that he was no longer conscious.

Frowning, Francis sighed and shivered, dark thoughts entering his mind as he rolled out of bed.

Quietly, he made his way to the door, giving one last gaze at Matthew before slipping out into the hallway.

Oh how he wished it wasn't a full moon.

!~!~!

Matthew's eyes slowly slipped open as the lack of warmth in his room woke him up. "Francis..." he mumbled, yawning. "Why is it so cold?" He reached a hand out to tap his shoulder, but realized he wasn't there once his hand hit the bed instead. Sitting up, he squinted to try and make out where his roommate might be. Maybe he had to go to the bathroom, or something? Or maybe he went to get some water or something...

He took his glasses out from under his pillow and put them on, looking around a lot better now. None of the lights were on, so he obviously wasn't in the room. Judging by how high the moon was up in the air, it was around 1am... maybe. He never fully got the hang of telling the time by the sun or the moon.

"Where could he be...?" he wondered briefly before a string of words triggered in his mind.

"_Why do I have to keep going down there at midnight?!_"

"Francis said that once..." Matthew mumbled. He had written it off as unimportant since there was so much other information that seemed more prominent, but now... Where did he have to go at midnight?

Slipping out of bed and immediately shivering from the cold, he walked out of their room. Set on a mission to find his roommate. Much more exciting than sleeping, anyhow.

"I want to come, too," a small voice said, making Matthew jump. Turning around, he saw that it was just his pet polar bear.

"Oh!" he exclaimed sighing in relief and picking him up. "There you are, Kumi! Where have you been hiding this past day?"

"Exploring," it said simply, leaning against him.

"Well, come along then - I'll be less lonely with you." He headed off then, not really knowing where to go... He mentioned "down there" though, so maybe the dungeon...? Well, it was as good a try as any.

After awhile, he felt as if he wasn't really there. Oh, he knew he was, and he could still feel it... But eventually... It all just flowed together, like a never ending cycle of pain.

Each sword, stabbed ruthlessly into him. One, two, three... It became numb after a while. Eventually he would try to shut himself down, to fall unconscious, but it never worked.

He could see his blood being drunk and absorbed hungrily by thousands of roses, while small streams of the crimson liquid trailed off his finger tips.

It felt like cruel, unnecessary pain that he never understood. Why did he have to keep doing it? Year after year, being sucked dry as thorns wrapped around his body, trying to strangle it's starving frame till there were nothing but bones.

All of it just reminded him that he was trapped, and there was no escape.

Three, four, five...

Each blade just kept stabbing him, so eventually, through all his screams and sobbing he would begin to laugh. Howls and crazed wails of laughter between his pain and hopelessness induced tears.

Francis knew there was no other way to survive it otherwise.

Except, maybe thinking of the one he loved... Maybe that would help... Right?

_It's so creepy down here_... Matthew thought to himself as he walked along the dungeon's halls, tracing his fingers lightly against the cold stone as he did so. He always liked doing this since it made the space feel less empty beside him, but in this case it wasn't helping...

_How could I have ever thought this place was cool?_ Looking around, it was just too dark for his tastes; his overactive imagination was having a ball and showing him all kinds of terrifying monsters and creatures, or even just poisonous spiders and snakes and other animals equally as terrifying.

_Why would he have to come down here?_ he thought to himself again, hugging Kumi tighter to his chest. _What else does this awful curse entail? _

He decided to try and open some of the doors he passed again, although the first few he had tried were locked. And that seemed to be the case for most of them; door after door was just _locked_, and when he started to get into an area of the dungeon that seemed it hadn't been used for decades, he sighed. Wherever Francis was, it wasn't down here, it seemed...

"Where should we go next?" he mumbled to his bear, looking down at him.

"I don't know," it replied, looking up at him as well. "He's your friend."

Sighing, Matthew looked behind him, down the long, dark, shadowy passageway... "Yeah, I know."

Eventually he had lost his voice when the torture had finally stopped. Falling to the ground, he watched as the flowers slithered away, causing him to voidly watch after them, feeling empty.

Cold... It was so cold... Why was he still bleeding? Where was Matthew? He wanted Matthew...

So he began to crawl, slowly and without much motivation as he began to leave the "tomb."

Pictures... Francis wanted to see pretty, happy pictures... Pictures of cute animals and happy families and warm places... Books full of laughter, hugs and kisses... Warm, safe things...

Matthew was currently huddled on the edges of the dungeon hallways, cringing as he heard some of the most eerie whistling he's ever heard. _Maybe my imagination isn't so weird after all..._ he thought as he tried to make himself as small as possible. _What in the world could be down here!?_

"Matthew?" he heard a very familiar voice say.

Looking up, he smiled. "Heh, should have figured it was you, Arthur."

Grinning he knelt down and started petting Kumi. "Well, I suppose. Who else would spend their nights in a creepy, hallways dungeon besides the superstitious British student?"

Giggling Matthew stood up, tilting his head slightly. "Why are you down here?"

"Oh, well..." blushing slightly he took a hand out from behind his back and produced an imitation Green Lantern ring that was glowing."Arthur's always going on about one of these... By way of the moonlight I can make it glow, isn't it nice?"

"Very," Matthew said, smirking. _Didn't Arthur say he'd propose with a Green Lantern ring...? _

"Well, anyways," Arthur said, putting it in his pocket. "Why are you down here?"

"Oh, I'm looking for Francis."

Matthew was surprised when a flash of pain crossed the other's face. He ran a hand through his hair absently. "Oh... I see... What time is it, if I may ask?" He muttered the last sentence as he took out his pocket watch. Smiling weakly, he put a hand on Matthew's shoulder and said, "Why don't you check the library... he should be there by now."

"...Okay," Matthew mumbled, biting his lip. "... Arthur, where does he go at midnight?"

Arthur shook his head as he kept walking forward. "Maybe he'll tell you, but right now... please, just go to the library."

Matthew stared after him. What is just him, or did the Brit sound almost... desperate? As if it was of dire importance that he go to the book-filled room?

"Well, we know where he is now, so let's go,"' Matthew told his pet before making his feet move forward.

_Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock..._

Francis' dull orbs followed the singing pendulum as he laid, curled up in a bleeding, naked ball on the couch. It was nice to focus on such a simple thing... The way it kept moving, keeping time...

It was straightforward, not shrouded in mystery.

Beside him were stacks and piles of picture books, full of "warm," things as he called them.

Books with children playing, families loving one another, fairy tales, cute animals...

They made for great distractions, to not think about what had just happened. To let him regress to that childlike state of innocence he wish hasn't been stolen...

Regardless, he continued to watch the clock and count in French in his mind, curling and uncurling his hands as he shivered violently.

Seven, eight, nine, ten...

Where was Matthew? Why wasn't he here? That's all he wanted, was for him to hold him close and sooth his broken will. All he felt was pain, isolation, and emptiness...

And that wasn't warm. That was very, very cold.

The doors to the library creaked something dreadful, Matthew found out as he slowly pushed the big, almost intimidating doors open. He remembered why he hated traveling in the dark... everything was shrouded, making it harder to see and yet easier to cover up everything as well. Everything possibly dangerous, or harmful, and it also hid every other kind and nice thing from sight.

He wished he knew where the light switches were.

Walking along the library, he sighed again, realizing that it could possibly take all night to find him. Why did he care so much, anyways? If he wanted to spend the night in the library, that was no concern of Matthew's, was it?

But... something in Arthur's tone earlier, and how Francis was in general, made him keep moving forward. What if the boy was in a lot of pain, and that's why he came here in the first place? It's obvious he doesn't like to bother people with his problems, even if they were immense, so he probably would just hold himself up in here instead of coming to Matthew and telling him what happened.

That was another thing - the odds of Francis telling him anything or answering any of his questions was slim to none, which was already frustrating the Canadian.

"Oh, Francis, where are you..."

His question was answered when his ears detected the distinct sounds of quiet sobbing. Walking silently towards it, his stomach dug itself into a deeper and deeper hole as he heard just how... pathetic, weak, hurt, etc. he sounded... Just what had happened to him? What could possibly make him sound like that?

"Oh...!" Matthew said once he saw the Frenchman curled up on the couch. Only he was bleeding terribly, already making him feel dizzy from just how _much _blood there was. Not to mention naked again... "Francis," Matthew said gently, walking closer to him while averting his eyes. "What...? Who did this to you!"

He watched as dull eyes stared right through him, full of pain and terror. He heard the strangled sounds of French numbers being uttered between sobs as Francis didn't answer him.

"Onze, douze, treize-"

"Francis!" Matthew interrupted, just a little bit louder. He held a hand out to touch his shoulder, but hesitated as he didn't really want to be covered in bl... blood as well.

Said bleeding boy flinched, pupils dilating as he stared up at Matthew in fear, cowering before him.

Matthew could feel his heart melting with sorrow as he stared into those eyes. He really did look like a frightened animal, a creature that had been slighted by humans and was untrusting towards everyone now... Knowing only pain and loss; nothing happy...

He placed Kumi on the ground before taking a deep breath, sucking it up, and hugging him, feeling woozy as he felt all of the blood seeping into his clothing.

Francis shook horribly and made gasping, wailing sobs. Who was holding him?! Where they trying to hurt him? Why were they burning with heat?

Sensing something was wrong when Francis didn't hug him back like he normally would, Matthew whispered into his ear, "Francis, it's me... Matthew."

Francis froze, his sobs being choked off as he processed what he had heard... Matthew... It was... Matthew... And Matthew was warm...

Quickly he wrapped his arms around the other and hugged him tightly, burrowing into his lap and continuing to shake as he sobbed.

Sighing, Matthew's resolve completely disintegrated as he started petting his ratty, blood-clotted hair, unsure of what else to do. "How did this happen to you..." he muttered, not really expecting to be answered.

"Sharp... Cold... Pain..." the pain filled boy answered back in broken English.

Frowning, Matthew looked down at him. "What do you -? Kumi! Stop!" he yelled as his polar bear began to lick at the blood on Francis' body. "That's not sanitary..."

Francis froze, still shaking as he continued, "Blades... 1,000... Torture..."

Turning his attention back to Francis, Matthew frowned. It was like he was speaking in riddles... usually he loved riddles, but not when it had to do with something so serious!-!

"Does not... Stop." Francis finished, gazing up at Matthew and asking, "You... Warm?"

"Huh?" Matthew asked, blinking at him. _What did he mean? _he thought. _Am I warm? Well, it's kind of chilly in here_... "Um, well, I'm a little cold..." he said, biting his lip. He was still trying to decipher his earlier sentences. Blades... sharp. Pain, torture. One thousand, cold...? He couldn't be talking about swords, could he? … A thousand sharp blades, torturing him with a cold pain... Is that what he meant?

"Stay!" Francis begged, clinging to him and crying once more, "Do not... Leave... Me!"

"I - I won't!" Matthew replied, frowning. "Why would you think that?"

His eyes rolled about, lazily in his sockets as his eyes went blank, "I... I am... Worthless..."

Matthew felt a dull anger fill him upon hearing those words. "No, you're not! Stop saying that all the time!-!"

"If... I was worth... Something... Then... Why am I... Not... Dead?"

"... That doesn't even make sense..." Matthew replied, creasing his eyebrows together. More riddles...

"I want... To die!" Francis began to sob, squeezing Matthew tightly as his sobs turned to wails.

Matthew felt his heart tighten as he shivered. He remembered hearing those words once...

Only, they were from his own mouth.

"No," Matthew mumbled, grabbing his shoulders and forcing him up so he could look into his eyes. "Don't _say_ that! Nothing good ever comes from giving up on your own life!-! There are a lot of people who care about you Francis, who would care if you were gone..." A tear came to his eye as he mumbled, "Myself included... I may not know you very well yet, but I'd like to get the chance to... and I wouldn't be able to do that if you died."

Suddenly, though, something erupted in Matthew's brain. He had mentioned something about living for 300 years before... maybe he meant he wished that he actually _could_ die...? Maybe the curse prevented him from dying? … If that was the case, then everything he said wouldn't make any sense.

Pausing in his sobs, he gazed into Matthew's eyes and asked, "You...? Mon amour...?"

Smiling weakly, Matthew replied, "Oui..." in an attempt to cheer him up with the French word.

He gazed deeply into Matthew's eyes and replied, "I do not want to die then..." he then hugged him tightly, nuzzling his neck and mumbling, "I love... You..."

. . . Matthew wasn't entirely sure how he should respond to that. "Uh..." he muttered back, stalling to think of what he could possibly say. "I... That's... sweet..." he finally said, inwardly cringing as he realized how horrible that sounded, even to him. But what else was he supposed to say!? He didn't really... "love" him yet... They still needed to become better _friends. _

Francis cracked a smile and replied softly, "Bien."

Matthew chuckled weakly, thanking the stars that he didn't seem depressed by his words. One of these days he should just write down all of the things that send Francis into lockdown mode... But, for now at least, he just started humming a little tune that his mother used to sing to him. It was a slower, softer tune, but it always made him feel better. Maybe it'll help him, too?

Francis felt his ears perk up and his thoughts slowly began to clear. He felt tight arms wrapped around him... And soft, beautiful humming... It made him feel warm.

Cooing softly, he curled up in Matthew's arms and hugged him more, feeling his eyes flutter shut. Drowsiness from his energy used for his tears started to slip into his vision. Yawning, he rested his head on Matthew's shoulder.

"Feeling better?" Matthew asked quietly, patting him lightly on the back.

"Oui... Your voice is beautiful..." Francis murmured, nuzzling Matthew's neck.

"Heh..." Matthew chuckled nervously, blushing a little from the unexpected compliment. "Thanks... glad you think so."

"You're beautiful..." Francis added with a yawn, closing his eyes.

"... No," Matthew said, smiling slightly. "You are." He always loved playing the, "No, you are!" game - the longest battle he's had lasted for an hour straight.

"No," Francis giggled unexpectedly, "You are!"

"Nooo," Matthew continued, giggling as well. "You definitely are!"

Francis yawned and replied softly, "I still... Love you more... So I win..." he trailed off, sleep starting to overtake him.

Matthew stared down at him, breathing silently. "I suppose you do..." he whispered.

Well, now that he was asleep, Matthew supposed he should carry him back to the room, and maybe clean him up a bit... But there was no way he was carrying him when he was so _bare_, so he slipped his shirt off and tied it around Francis' waist before picking him up bridal style. He hummed as he walked, not wanting him to wake up during the travel. Although, considering how sound he looked, he didn't see that happening anytime soon.

He smiled down at Kumi as the bear trailed behind. "Want to help me wash him up when we get back to the room?"

Kumi looked up at him, tilting his head. "Who are you, again?"

"... I'm Matthew..." He sighed, looking down at Francis. Now that he was walking, he could feel just how much blood had landed on his own person as well... Looks like he'd be washing both of them before he went back to sleep.

**Author's Note, TheGuardianKnux: I HOPE YOU LIKE THE MIND SCREW! :D Anyways, sorry for taking all week to update, I just got busy, preparing for Jazz Band and STUFF~ :DDD Anyways, hope you like this mind screw of a chapter, and hope you can't wait for more~ :DDD  
As always, read and review~**


	7. Seal and Bonding

Blinking his eyes open, Francis yawned as he sat up, mumbling and rubbing an eye, his vision blurry. He couldn't remember much, except... Matthew... Swords... Love-

His face darkened as he remembered what he had said to Matthew last night, making him fall back onto the pillows and nuzzle his face into them, beyond embarrassed. Why did he have to say such stupid things after being tortured?

His ears perked up a little when he heard a happy tune coming out of the bathroom. "Oh, you're awake now?" Francis looked up slightly to see Matthew emerge from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and hair. "Heh, I must have dozed off in the bath, then..."

Francis blushed as his eyes trailed Matthew up and down, admiring his rather toned looking form...

Matthew blushed slightly from the gaze, shifting uncomfortably. He hurried over to his dresser and grabbed some clothes, saying casually over his shoulder, "It was a little difficult getting the bl- … washing your hair, since it's so long, but I think I did a good job..."

Francis' eyes widened as he touched his waist length locks, trying to hide the blush on his face as he thought of Matthew washing... Him...

"Oh, that reminds me," Matthew continued, looking up at him. "Um, where's my sweater you were wearing? It's all right if you lost it, I just... would like to know."

Cringing, Francis replied quietly, "It got ripped to shreds... M-Maybe... Eaten..."

"... Oh..." Matthew said, grabbing some pants and closing his drawer. "That's... nice? It was getting old anyways..." _What did he mean "eaten"?! _Matthew kept his panicked question to himself since Francis already seemed unstable.

"B-But I could ask Ivan to knit you a new one!" Francis interjected, giving a hopeful smile, "He loves knitting, and then Arthur could embroider it!"

Smiling, Matthew said gratefully,"Sure, that sounds lovely." He stood up and walked back to the bathroom to get dressed. He decided it'd be best not to mention that he could knit as well...

Francis pouted as he watched the door close, admitting that he kind of wanted to peak on Matthew...

Rolling out of bed, he went over to the dresser and dug till he got to the back. Finding what he was looking for, he took out a silver and sky blue tunic and slipped it on, refusing to put on any pants. Reminding him of the many reasons he loved clothing from his childhood...

Matthew came out of the bathroom and stopped when he saw what Francis was wearing. He grinned and held a hand up to his mouth, thinking to himself, _He looks like a girl with that on..._

"So," Matthew said as he walked over and flopped down on the bed. "... How'd you sleep?" he decided to ask instead of the millions of other questions plaguing his mind.

"Peaceful for the first time in four months!" he replied cheerfully, going to his basket of hair supplies and taking out his brush. Beginning to brush his hair, he continued, "Most of the time I can't sleep."

"Hm? But you slept the first night I was here..." Matthew said, almost to himself but loud enough for him to hear. He chuckled slightly. "Were you just watching me sleep?" he asked jokingly.

Francis blushed, looking away and nodded slightly, "Oui..."

"... O-oh..." Matthew said, blushing as well now. He crawled a bit backwards on the bed, wanting a little more space after hearing that, but, surprisingly he ran out of bed and instead tumbled to the floor. "Ow..." he muttered, sighing. Today was turning out splendidly, wasn't it?

Francis ran to his side and helped him up, giving a sheepish look, "I wasn't just staring, I was also, um... Sketching..."

"... Sketching?" Matthew asked, a little unbelieving.

Francis nodded and went over to their bed, taking out a sketch pad from behind it along with some charcoal and showing him, "Here..."

Taking it silently, Matthew flipped it open, eyes widening at the sight. It was drawn with extraordinary detail!-! "Francis..." he muttered, looking it over, "This is incredible!"

Said blonde blushed darkly and fiddled with his hair, asking in surprise, "Really? You can look at the other stuff in it... I don't mind... There's more of you in there..."

Blushing slightly, but also smiling, Matthew looked at the next page. "No one's ever dawn me before... It's, it's kind of flattering, I guess..."

Francis furrowed his brow, asking in confusion, "Why wouldn't anyone? Surely tons of maidens have drooled over you..."

Shivering, Matthew stood up straight as his face turned a surprising shade of red. "What?! N-no, of course not - I'm not... Heh, no one would ever drool over me, and... I'm fairly certain no girl's ever liked me - they all say I'm a great friend, but not boyfriend material, and -"

"Then surely men?" Francis asked, tilting his head, still confused.

Blushing more furiously, Matthew turned to him. "N-no, not m-men, either..."

Francis pursed his lips, replying firmly, "Then they all have no taste in actual beauty!"

Groaning and feeling heat all over him now, Matthew covered his face with Francis' sketch pad and laid down on the bed. "I'm not that beautiful..." he mumbled, still not understanding why Francis thought so. "And I'm just too boring for anyone to like..."

"Non!" Francis objected strongly, coming over and sitting beside him, "You are quite interesting! And as for beauty, your hair is amazing along with your well toned body, and violet eyes along with complimentary pale skin!"

"... You make me sound like a model," Matthew told him, sliding the book down to just under his eyes so he could look at the blonde boy.

"You are better than those," the blonde scoffs, gazing down at Matthew intently, "Have you not had time to admire the wondrously structured contours of your face shape or how your hair is a silky, hay-colored mass of waves that the sun itself would envy?"

"... No," Matthew said, sitting up and crossing his legs. "But it seems you have..."

Francis felt heat rise to his face and looked away, mumbling, "It comes with having an artful eye..."

Matthew shifted slightly, fiddling with his fingers as he remembered what Francis had said last night... about, l-loving him... "R-right..." He hugged himself and looked up at Francis. "You've surely studied yourself as well, then, right?"

Francis gazed at him questioningly and replied, unsurely, "Not often... Sometimes..."

Chuckling, he tried to think of such carefully crafted words he could say to make Francis realize just how beautiful he was, too, since he always seemed to rag on himself. "Well, you should take more time to stare at your own silky, soft hair, since clouds can only dream of being that soft... Why else do you think it rains? They're crying over how they can never compare to you."

Francis touched his hair, blushing more as he processed Matthew's words, before grinning like a schoolgirl.

"And..." Matthew continued, feeling encouraged by the look on Francis' face. "And..." he laughed at his own thoughts before saying, "You're as adorable as every baby animal combined."

Francis began to laugh, a bright healthy glow being displayed upon his face as he did, grinning almost from ear to ear at such compliments.

Matthew smiled warmly, the next sentence coming out of his mouth almost automatically. "And your laugh reminds me of the tinkling of bells..."

Francis began to laugh even more, his smile growing as he did. He couldn't believe Matthew thought this way about him! Was he really that beautiful?

Giggling, Matthew picked up the sketch pad again, flipping to a random page. "And I'm sure everyone is jealous of your drawing ability - I certainly am."

"Matthieu, I think over three centuries is a bit of an unfair advantage!" Francis replied, giggling now as well as he watched him.

"Good point," Matthew replied, laughing. "But you obviously have some natural talents - after all, some people can't draw no matter how hard they try."

"In my mind, they don't open up their mind to the endless possibilities they could ascribe~" Francis explained, giving a soft smile, "Some people, I have found, are rather narrow minded."

"I guess..." Matthew said before he flipped to a page that made him gasp. It was a picture of that blade... the one he had pulled out of Francis. Covered in blood and making Matthew feel pain, just by looking at it... He closed the book gently before smiling weakly at him. "Hey... where's, uh, that sword..."

Francis stopped smiling, and looked down, hiding behind his hair and replying quietly, "Inside me."

"... But I didn't see it on you last night..."

"It'll be visible probably by the next lunar cycle..." Francis replied uncomfortably, turning away and hugging himself.

Frowning, Matthew stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry..." he apologized. "I didn't mean to make you... upset."

"Oh it's nothing!" Francis argued quickly, giving a fake smile and getting up, "I bet you must be hungry! Let me make some comfort food for you!"

Smiling slightly at the effort, Matthew said, "How about I make some poutine for you instead?" _I think you need the comforting much more than me..._

Francis' smile faltered as he objected quickly, "B-But the kitchen is no place for a true man such as yourself!"

Matthew stared at him for a second before letting out a long, boisterous laugh. He continued like that for a few moments before holding up a hand with two fingers extended. "Okay, there are two things wrong with that statement..." he started, smiling at him. "One, I'm pretty sure I'm not a "true man," whatever that is - I hate hunting, I'm not that strong, and I don't look the part, do I? And second, I think "true men" should get over themselves and learn how to cook and do housework and all that. I don't really find those things to be purely women's work."

Francis cocked his head, giving an utterly confused look, "But a woman's place is still in the kitchen isn't it?"

Laughing, Matthew scratched the back of his head. "Wow, you really haven't left this castle in three hundred years..." He shook his head before taking his hand and pulling him out of the door. "Lead me to the kitchen while I tell you what the 21st century entails."

Francis nodded, a more natural smile appearing on his face. Letting go of his hand for a moment, he replied, "Hold on! I must be dressed for cooking!"

Going over to the dresser he took out a long

apron and then unbuttoned his tunic and took it off. Putting on the apron, he breathed a sigh of relief and smiled cheerfully at Matthew, "Alright! Now I'm ready!"

Blushing furiously, Matthew covered his eyes with one of his hands. "Francis..." he muttered, "Please put some pants on..."

He shook his head, replying stubbornly, "Non! Pants are horrible!"

"But..." Matthew started an idea coming to him, "In the 21st century, men have to wear pants... it's considered unmanly if they don't."

Francis stuck out his tongue, replying, "Then the twenty first century does not understand the freedom of nudity!"

Groaning, Matthew tried a different tactic. "I will not speak to you for the rest of the day unless you put on some pants right now..."

Francis' face fell as he whimpered, "But Matthieu!"

"No buts! Only pants!"

Pouting, he went back to the dresser and grabbed one of Matthew's long sleeved shirts that at least went down to Francis' knees and put it on, "There!"

"... Why must you wear all of my clothes?" he asked weakly before sighing. "Well, at least that's a little better..."

Francis snickered and replied, "It's the closest you shall get to making me wear clothing!"

Shaking his head, Matthew headed out of the door. "You're weird!' he called back jokingly, laughing as he walked along.

Francis pouted and stuck out his tongue and replied, "There is nothing weird with being comfortable in your own skin!"

"But it's common courtesy to cover yourself up!" Matthew called back, turning around and walking backwards as he winked at him. "We wouldn't want anyone getting jealous of our bodies, now, would we?"

Blushing slightly, Francis replied firmly, "Then that is why you dress, because people would be jealous of your body!"

"Hm, well, no," Matthew said, turning back around. "_I _dress because I'm too meek to walk around otherwise... but you should dress for the jealousy reason." _And also because it's slightly disgusting..._ he added to himself. But he figured Francis wouldn't understand what he meant, and would just assume that he thought Francis himself looked ugly.

Which was hardly the case at all.

Francis stopped and gave him an odd stare, "Why? I'm half starved... And rather under weight..." he explained, pointing at his ribs.

Tilting his head slightly, Matthew thought to himself. "Well... obesity is a real problem in this day and age..." he said absently, "So you probably just look extremely healthy to some people. Besides, you still look very strong."

Francis stared and then shook his head, laughing, "Non, non, I don't have much muscle mass. I look more lanky and effeminate to be honest."

"Well... I find that kind of attractive," Matthew admitted, blushing slightly. "Too many muscles kind of look... grotesque. A more graceful beauty is better, like what you have."

Francis blushed darkly, giggling and nodding as he replied, "T-Thank you..."

"You're welcome," Matthew replied, smiling. "So, will you wear pants tomorrow?"

Francis pouted, shaking his head and crossing his arms with a huff, "Non!"

Frowning, Matthew blew his curl out of his face. He blushed slightly as another scheme to get Francis to wear clothing wandered into his head. "Francis... do you know what, uh, porn, is?"

Francis stared at him, slightly horrified.

"I'll take that as a yes..." Matthew sighed. "That's why you should wear clothing - a lot of people look at other human beings as just objects because of that degrading material... not wearing clothes doesn't really help. Do you get what I'm saying?"

Frowning, he grumbled questions in French of, "Is Matthieu a pervert?" and, "Has he been reading Alfred's explicit Yaoi mangas?" before shaking his head and groaning, "Fine, I'll wear tights..."

Matthew snickered and shook his head. "You might as well just pretend to be a girl and wear dresses everyday with how much you despise pants."

Francis shrugged and replied, opening the fridge, "Sometimes I do."

Matthew was confused. "But doesn't the school know you're a boy?"

Nodding, he replied, "Yeah, but some teachers and students don't."

"... How can the teachers not know!?" Matthew asked, shocked. "Don't they have rosters...?"

Francis snickered, smirking, "They don't always check them~" getting some supplies out of the fridge, he added, "Plus, Francis is a rather feminine name in English..."

"Yeah, you're right about that," Matthew admitted, shaking his head. "That's still ridiculous though... I guess they'd just expect you to correct them if they got your gender wrong."

"True, but wearing women's clothing is airy enough and allows freedom of movement!" Francis declared enthusiastically.

"... I give up," Matthew mumbled, sitting down at the kitchen table. "As long as you wear something to cover up I'll be good."

Francis gave a smooth smirk and raised a brow, "Maybe I should forget the tights~"

Matthew narrowed his eyes before looking up at the ceiling and saying. "Hm, I wonder where Francis went? He was here just a moment ago... Ah well."

Francis gasped and yelled, begging, "Alright! Alright! I'll put on tights _and _socks today!"

"Good," Matthew said with a smirk. He stood up and walked over to him then, saying, "Why don't you go put those on right now and I'll make us something to eat?"

Sighing, he nodded and went over to the dresser, muttering about Matthew being oppressive.

Shaking his head, Matthew got to work on making some poutine, thinking over the past few days.

He had agreed to be "the duelist" but... he hadn't picked up a sword since. Should he start training now? He didn't really want to... What if he was horrible at wielding a sword? What if he accidentally hurt someone out of pure inexperience? What if he would never get the hang of sword fighting no matter how hard he tried?

Sighing, he turned the stove on. He decided to just focus on cooking right now - he had plenty of time for worrying later. Besides, it sounded like there hadn't been a "challenger" in ages, so maybe he would never even have to battle anyone.

"I should ask Arthur if he wants help with the curse," he mumbled to himself thoughtfully.

Eventually he heard the sound of socks sliding into the kitchen.

Francis had come in, wearing Matthew's shirt still along with white tights and knee high socks that had royal blue ribbon and lacing.

Matthew took one look at him and started laughing. "Am I going to have to be like your mother and pick out your clothes every day!?"

Offended, Francis glared and replied, "Non! This is chic!"

Still chuckling, he replied, "To who?"

Francis stuck out his tongue and countered, "Me!"

Chuckling, Matthew said, "If chic means dorky, then I agree."

Narrowing his eyes, he warned, "I'll force you to eat escargot if you continue this mockery!"

"Sorry," Matthew told him, snickering.

Francis continued to glare and added, "And frog legs."

Shivering at the thought, Matthew stopped laughing and smiled at him instead. "But you'd be eating your own kind!" he joked.

Francis stared then stuck out his tongue, replying, "Meanie..."

"That's what friends are like sometimes," Matthew replied, giggling. "But it's all in good fun."

Francis nodded, smiling as he sat at the counter and replied, "And frogs and snails are adorable~"

"Ah, so that's why you're the frog prince," Matthew replied with a chuckle as he continued his cooking.

Francis' gaze brightened as he asked, "Do you think if I am kissed one day I'll turn into a true prince?"

Matthew paused slightly before looking at him. "But you've already been kissed..."

Shaking his head, he objected, "Non, I kissed _you._ It doesn't work unless _you _kiss _me._"

Blushing, Matthew explained, "I was talking about the others you had mentioned before... the ones who hadn't taken any mints?"

Frowning in displeasure, the blonde replied with saddened eyes, "They only lusted after me though."

"And that's why you should wear clothes~" Matthew mumbled under his breath.

"But I do wear clothes then. I have to wear a dress." Francis replied, giving a slightly hurt look as he played with the ends of his hair.

Creasing his eyebrows together in confusion, Matthew turned to him. "Why do you have to wear a dress...?"

"It's what the sword forces me to wear." Francis replied slowly.

"... So, that's why you're also called the rose bride?" he asked just as slowly, frowning. Why in the world would the sword make him wear a dress? That just made absolutely no sense at all.

Francis nodded once more, sighing, "Pretty much. I don't mind that much, I mean, I could care less what gender people think I am so long as I'm happy with how I look."

Matthew tilted his head to the side. "And yet you call me a true man when you yourself don't care...?"

Francis nodded, "Oui. You'll be fighting for my honor, in a sense. That makes you more of a man than I."

Matthew frowned, not really knowing what to say to that. Before he could stop himself, he asked, "Why can't you fight for yourself...?" He immediately regretted this question though.

Stiffening, Francis replied, "I am not allowed to. The curse prohibits it."

"I hate this stupid curse," Matthew said, Imrolling his eyes.

"Well, that's an understatement." Francis deadpanned, getting up and fetching some wine out of an icebox near the fridge.

Matthew bit his lip as he walked over to the fridge, taking out some potatoes. "Yeah, probably..." Flashes of Francis lying bloodied on the library's couch entered his mind. He wanted to ask about that so much... but would he answer? "Francis," he decided to start, looking at him as he closed the door. "Where did you go last night...?"

Immediately he jumped, dropping the bottle on the floor and causing it to shatter as he turned, wide-eyed, and stared at Matthew while wine pooled around their feet.

Matthew jumped slightly himself from the crash. "S-sorry...! I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed before running over and grabbing a roll of paper towels. Tearing a string off, he immediately started cleaning the floor, not wanting to look at him anymore. Why must he always ask these questions!?

"No man should ever wonder what it is I go through every full moon." Francis answered, eyes going out of focus, "I'm surprised I haven't slipped to insanity from it to be honest."

_Full moon?_ Matthew thought to himself sadly. _So that's why he reacted like that when I pointed it out_... He looked up at him then. "If it's driving you insane, then I want to know about it..."

Matthew gave a gasp of surprise as Francis got up and took him by the shoulders, gazing intensely into his eyes as he explained, "Imagine, every full moon, being trapped in a room full of flowers trying to suck you dry, as a thousand blades stab into you, one at a time..." he trailed off, gazing down at the floor with a blank look, "Slowly, and painfully, as thorns twist and wrap around your body, trying to devour you whole..."

Matthew started shaking as he imagined what Francis described. His own body started hurting and his mind played horrible tricks on him as it depicted his mother and his dear friend back home going through such a process... But imagining Francis like that stayed the longest, making him close his eyes. The beating of his heart drowned out almost everything as his head was filled with horrible, heart-wrenching screams, swords prickling and stabbing their way into Francis' already marred skin, the roses coming in with bloodthirst grins as their thorns grew and continued the torture... All the while the moonlight just hanging there, being the only witness and yet not doing anything about it... Simply reminding him that he'd be there again next month, just to be tortured all over again.

This... this was what he went through every full moon? This agonizing sequence filled with blood and crushing pain... As he thought about it more, he just had to ask _Why?_ Francis seemed like one of the nicest people he's ever met... why would he be cursed in such a way? He remembered Arthur saying once that he didn't think Francis deserved the curse, and from what Matthew could see...

He was absolutely right.

"I'm sorry..." Matthew muttered, reaching forward and hugging him tightly. "I promise... If I really am this duelist that you say I am, I'll try my best to help you..."

Blinking, Francis turned and stared into into Matthew's eyes, his gaze wide and hopeful, "Y-You will?"

Smiling as tears formed in his eyes, Matthew replied brokenly. "Yes... No one deserves to go through what you've already had to do."

Francis felt tears welling in his eyes, and he hugged Matthew tightly, whispering with all the thankfulness he could give, "Thank you, my shining prince."

Matthew sighed, laying his head on top of his. "I'm not a prince... I just like to help people."

"But you're a gallant prince to me." Francis whispered up at him, smiling lovingly and blushing.

Matthew shook his head slightly, smiling. "You depict me as too many things..."

"How is that a bad thing?" Francis asked, hugging him tighter.

"Because I might get a big head if you keep doing that," Matthew told him with a kind smile. He let go of Francis as he went back to wiping the wine up off the floor. "I've always hated conceited people, so I don't want to become one."

"Then maybe I should make my praises physical ones instead!" Francis decided aloud, smiling determinedly, "Then they'll leave a lasting impression!"

Mathew sighed. "What have I gotten myself into?" he asked himself as he started carefully picking up the broken glass.

"A world with much more l'amour!" Francis answered with a dazzling smile as he picked out a new bottle of wine.

"Aren't you a little young to be drinking wine anyways...?" Matthew asked, raising an eyebrow and grinning.

Pouting, Francis challenged, "I am a prince, am I not? I may disobey rules for the sake of being tipsy if I so do please!" he finished, standing upon the counter and raising the bottle up and cheering, "For the mother land!"

"Not so fast!" Matthew told him, standing up. "Since _you_ call _me_ a prince, that means I'm a higher rank than you, right? So give me the bottle." He held his hand out with a smile, the other arm akimbo.

Francis narrowed his eyes and asked suspiciously, "Then what does that make me?!"

"Um..." Matthew faltered. He looked Francis up and down, taking in the dress-like clothes he was wearing as well as his extremely long hair and said without thinking, "The princess...?"

Francis blushed, staring at him then smirking

, shrugging and replying, "Alright, then quit looking up my skirt!"

A shiver passed through Matthew as he blushed, denying, "I've never done such a thing in my life!-!"

Francis wore a cheshire grin and asked, raising his brows, "Oh really? Then why are you looking up it right now as I drink this bottle," he popped the cork off and added, "Bottoms up!"

"No!" Matthew yelled before jumping up on the counter as well and taking the bottle from him. "Bad Francis!"

Francis stared and then gave him a bewildered look and asked, "Is Ivan's speech pattern getting to you? I thought I was the princess, not the royal steed..."

Matthew sighed as he jumped down from the counter. "Sorry. I just don't like what alcohol turns people into." He grimaced as he put the bottle away. "Sometimes I had to walk past the bar late at night... it wasn't a very fun experience. Luckily I could outrun the drunkards but..."

Francis frowned and got down, grasping Matthew's hand and nodding, "I understand, that's why we won't let Arthur drink Ivan's whiskey."

Matthew stuck his tongue out. "Not to mention that stuff tastes awful..." He looked at him before asking, "Why? Does Arthur get drunk easily?"

Francis shrugged, "Low alcohol tolerance?" he then placed a hand to his chin and pondered, "Well, Toris only drinks when he gets really panicked, I won't let Alfred drink because he's a year younger than us, I'm pretty sure Ivan _can't _get drunk. At. All... And I haven't gotten drunk in a while..." Francis' hanging curl then bent itself into a heart as he added, "Then again, I haven't had good cheese to go with my wine in a while..."

"... You talk about drinking so easily..." Matthew mumbled before shaking his head and picking up the potatoes he had picked out earlier. "Can you help me skin and cut these?"

Francis grinned and nodded enthusiastically, "Oui! It's just," he sighed nostalgically as he started to help, "Drinking in my time was a sign of maturity... Oh, I remember my first sip~"

Matthew sighed before relenting. "I guess _one_ glass wouldn't hurt..."

Francis' heart shaped curl bounced as he said that, and said blonde smiled, starry eyed, "Really?! I'll grab a drink later," he gave a happy sigh and asked, "Can you tell me about the twenty first century now?"

"All of it!?" Matthew asked, turning to him with surprise.

"It doesn't matter to me," Francis replied, smiling as he worked on another potato.

"Well, I kind of need to know what you already know, first..." Matthew started. "Do you know what a motor car is...?"

Cocking his head, Francis asked curiously, "They're those smoking metal boxes of doom right? Like some sort of iron maiden on wheels?"

Matthew laughed at his description before saying, "Yeah, kind of... Oh! Do you know about the internet?"

Stiffening, Francis squealed in fear as he quivered, "Oui! That scary contraption that is a glowing metal box that eats one's soul!"

Matthew laughed so hard that he had to cover his abdomen, and even then he slowly slunk to the floor until he was literally laughing on the floor. Where did he get these ideas?!

Francis glared at him and argued, "It does! That's why Alfred is stuck at one sometimes and doesn't move, just drooling like a vegetable!"

Matthew shook his head as he stood up. "It doesn't..." he laughed a bit more, "eat your soul, it's just very... addicting, I guess, since you can do a lot of stuff on it. Like play games, or read books, or watch videos... He was probably reading some online yaoi if he was drooling like you say, so he was probably just really focused on that."

Francis continued to shiver and begged, "Please don't make me use one! Alfred made me play some sort of maze, and a hideous monster randomly screamed at me and tried to take my soul!"

Chuckling, Matthew placed a hand on his shoulder. "Relax, that was just part of the game. And I won't make you use it if you don't want to." He grinned before putting his hand to his chin, "Although, I warn you, I might have to use the internet an awful lot..." he held up his hands and wiggled his fingers as he said, "But I'll have to be very careful lest I stumble upon anything dangerous!-!"

Francis' eyes widened and he whimpered, shaking as his curl bent in fear, "P-Please be careful! Soul stealing is lethal!"

Matthew laughed. "I'm only kidding - the internet is a lot of things, but a soul-sucking monster it is not."

Francis gave a disbelieving look, sticking out his tongue at Matthew, "Liar!"

Matthew placed his hands on his hips. "What do you mean "liar"!"

"You just want me to use the scary glowing box!" he insisted, imitating Matthew's pose.

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Francis, do you really think I'd make you do something if I thought there was even the _slightest _chance of your soul being taken?"

Francis frowned and shook his head slowly, pouting and replying stonily, "No..."

Giggling slightly, Matthew turned back to the potatoes. "There, see? The internet is fine. It's actually helpful for homework and such."

"Unless it's French!" Francis objected proudly, giving a triumphant pose, "I am a French speaking master!"

"Well, there are a few translating websites~" Matthew taunted with a chuckle.

"Mattieu, I can also speak Latin," Francis pointed out, "Not many people can."

Laughing now, Matthew turned to him and commented, "It almost sounds like you're jealous of the internet and proving your worth."

Narrowing his eyes, he replied with an upturned face, "Non! There is no contest, for I am before the glowing box of evil!"

Matthew just shook his head, smiling at how ridiculous Francis was. "Very well - you're obviously better than a box."

Smiling pridefully, his face then fell as he asked accusingly, "Hey! Are you mocking me?!"

"A little," Matthew mumbled as he skinned a potato.

Francis blinked then smirked as he asked in a sing song voice, "Did the Internet show you what porn is?"

For around the third time that day, shivers passed through Matthew. He slammed down the peeler and yelled, "A-Accidentally!-!" as his face slowly increased in temperature.

Francis stared then asked simply, "Where you reading Alfred's screen by accident?"

Matthew shook his head, sighing. "No, I was using Google without the safety blocker..."

Francis squinted his eyes in confusion and muttered, "Safety blocker? Goo-gull?"

Matthew smiled and resumed his peeling. "Google is a search engine; you type in a word or a phrase and it'll give you tons of websites related to what you typed in. The safety blocker is to prevent... "adult" material from appearing."

Francis raised his eyebrows and teased, "What were you searching _for_ exactly?"

Matthew froze, his face heating up again. "Er... Well... My fr-friend told me to type in "muffins and bananas" without the bl-blocker on... I thought it was harmless."

Francis stared for a long while before commenting, "But... That's food..."

Matthew shook his head. "Trust me, you don't want to know..."

Francis nodded innocently, completely oblivious and rather confused. "Alright then... What are some other inventions or new concepts I have yet to grasp, mon amour?"

"Hmm... Do you watch TV?"

Francis furrowed his brow and asked, "Is it that spinning wheel that projects these rolls of small pictures called film upon white surfaces?"

"Uh, sort of..." Matthew replied, shrugging a bit. "Only television is a little more advanced than that. It _is_ another box that projects images, though, yes."

Francis shivered and hugged himself. "That sounds terrifying!"

Matthew giggled. "There are some really funny shows on it, though!" He blushed slightly. "And as childish as it sounds, I just love all of the kid's cartoons they have..."

Francis smiled and nodded enthusiastically, "Oui! I love children stories as well!"

"Really? I'm glad." Matthew smiled at him with his eyes closed, his curl falling in front of one of his eyes.

Francis tilted his head and reached out a hand, touching said curl and pointing out, "We both have an odd curl!"

Blushing even more, Matthew gently pushed his hand away, laughing nervously. "Yeah, imagine that..."

Francis pouted and batted at the curl like a cat, asking, "Does the end bend into the shape of a heart when you get excited as well?"

"N-no...!" Matthew exclaimed, more heat rising to his face as he pushed Francis away and covered up his curl. "Pl-please stop touching it..."

Francis gave a curious look and asked, "Why?"

Matthew blushed even more. "B-because..." he started, his mind moving frantically as he tried to think of an explanation. "It... um... Makes me..." He hesitated more before deciding to yell, "Just don't!"

Francis nodded, eyes wide as he replied frantically, "I-I'm sorry for touching it! It's your soul, isn't it?!"

"... No," Matthew said, smiling. "It's not my soul, it just... er, activates a part of me I hide. A part I don't particularly like."

Francis frowned and gave a guilty look, "I'm sorry then, Matthieu..."

The Canadian grinned before pinching both of his cheeks playfully. "It's all right - you didn't know."

Francis giggled and scrunched his nose, replying, "Alright then, my liege!"

"Liege? I thought I was the prince," he said, giggling.

"You are!" the blonde replied, giggling more now as well, "And I am your princess!"

Matthew just chuckled. "Is this going to be a recurring thing?"

"Oui~" Francis responded, smiling mischievously.

~!~!~!~

The next day, Matthew woke up bright and early to get ready for his first school day. He was tremendously excited about all of the classes he was about to take, and was actually ready an hour before his first class even begun. That still didn't stop him from rushing his roommate, though.

"Francis, hurry up!" Matthew called to him, knocking on the bathroom door. The blonde boy was actually planning on changing right in front of him, but Matthew insisted he go into the bathroom to change instead.

"You cannot rush perfection!" Francis argued through the door.

Matthew rolled his eyes. "If I told you you're already perfect would you come out?"

"Non! I'm not done with this eye liner yet!" he objected excitedly, "I want it to look nice, just to compliment you!"

Matthew was confused. "Compliment me? What do you mean?"

Sighing, Francis opened the door, still fully naked as he explained, "You look handsome, so I want to be the beautiful to your handsome!" he then gestures to his legs, "Why do you think I've been taking so long?! I had to wax these!"

Matthew squeaked as he covered his eyes. "Fine! Whatever!-!" He walked away, sighing. Why did his roommate have to care about appearances so much?

Closing the door with a huff, the blonde went back to putting light makeup on, feeling as though he were in a more feminine mood today.

Meanwhile, Matthew sat down on the bed, sighing as he waited. He had gotten Francis up at the same time as him, so he should be ready by now! This waiting was starting to kill him with anxiousness... Soon, his stomach growled though, so he set about to killing some time by making them breakfast. "What do you want for breakfast?" he called.

"Ratatouille!" Francis sang back, "It's the perfect dish to start the morning with!"

Matthes laughed, thinking about the Disney movie by the same name. "All right, I'll start making it."

Eventually he heard the bathroom door open and turned, his gaze widening as he saw how Francis was dressed:

He was wearing the girl's uniform, a red plaid dress with a crisp white dress shirt and black tie that was under a cream sweater. Francis' hair was down, pooling down his back, and he wore white, thigh-high socks without any shoes.

Otherwise... He looked like, well, a she... And it didn't help that he was wearing light makeup in complimentary colors...

"... I think you're taking this princess thing a little too far..." Matthew told him as he finished up their breakfast.

"Non~" Francis snorted, flicking his hair, "I am simply in a feminine mood, thank you!"

"I'm just not going to say anything," Matthew said, placing some ratatouille on a plate and handing it to him. Yes, he found it a bit odd that a boy felt so comfortable dressing like that, but he was happy that he was at least wearing clothes.

"Then you are missing out~" Francis pouted and teased slightly as he picked up his fork, "Waxing one's legs isn't exactly a walk in a china shop..." he then paused, wondering aloud, "That is how the saying goes, oui?"

"One of them," Matthew said approvingly, nodding. He sat down with his own plate of ratatouille and smiled at him. "Bone appetite?" he tried to say with a French accent.

"Bon, mon roi," Francis replied with a flattered smile, "And that is an adorable accent, Matthieu~"

Blushing slightly, Matthew picked up his fork. "You're just saying that because it's not even close to one..."

"Non, I think it's adorable~" Francis replied, picking up his fork and placing it into his mouth thoughtfully. Tasting the food, his eyes lit up in delight and he made a happy noise.

"Do you like it?" Matthew asked happily. He always enjoyed cooking, so it was always a bonus when other people liked what he made.

"Oui! Oui!" Francis congratulated, giving him a shining smile, "It is delicious, mon amour!"

"I'm glad," Matthew replied before eating some as well, not noticing when his curl actually _did_ mold into the shape of a heart.

Francis noticed and have a small, gushing coo of, "Awwww, your curl is a heart like mine sometimes is!"

"Huh?" Matthew asked before opening his eyes to look, but his curl went back to normal before he could see anything. "... Are you sure?"

"Sure as I am standing before you, mon amour!" Francis confirmed, eyes sparkling as his curl molded into a heart as well.

Matthew smiled. "Huh, I wonder what that means..." he said thoughtfully before he felt something brush up against his leg. Looking down, he saw that it was Kumi. "Oh! I'm sorry," Matthew told him as he picked him up, "You must be hungry, too - here!" He started feeding his polar bear then, giggling slightly as he did so.

Francis cocked his head as he growled at the polar bear, then made a barking noise, grabbing its attention.

"Francis, why did you bark?" Matthew asked, looking at him curiously.

Francis barked once more at the bear, then made a slight howl. The bear did the same, and barked twice.

"Are you talking to him?-?" Matthew asked, his eyes sparkling before he realized something. "But I can usually understand Kumi..."

Francis looked up and nodded, with a giggle, "I know, I'm just asking him how his morning was, and he told me its fine, except you neglect him."

Matthew felt his stomach tighten as he slammed his head down on the table dejectedly. "I know..." he muttered, on the verge of tears. He was a terrible pet owner... his bear would probably be much better off without him. Why did he still keep him!?

"But if you feed him seal fat, he says he'll forgive you." Francis explained, guilty of being amused by Matthew's concern.

"Really?" Matthew asked, looking down at his pet. "Is food the only thing on your mind?" He laughed when the bear nodded. Petting him, he said, "I'll buy some for you after school, okay?"

Francis smiled warmly and complimented, "You are so nice, Matthieu."

Blushing slightly, Matthew smiled at him. "I try. You're nice, too."

Francis blushed a little as well and replied, "Merci~"

Blinking, Francis realized that they needed to get to class. "Um... Matthieu..."

Said boy turned to look at the clock, jumping and knocking the chair down as he stood up too fast. "We've got to go!-! Come on!" He grabbed Francis by the hand and dragged him out of their room, running as fast as he could.

Francis stopped abruptly and flicked Matthieu's head, "We forgot our bags!"

Matthew stopped immediately, sighing before he turned around. "Why am I so scatterbrained?!" he cursed himself.

Suddenly, just as he had said that, Francis was back with both bags, giving a hard stare, "Matthieu... Really?"

Smiling sheepishly, Matthew took his bag. "Heh... I told you I wasn't a prince."

"You are a prince in training, my young squire~" Francis teased with a warm smile.

Shaking his head, Matthew just started walking again. "Whatever you say, fair maiden."

Blushing, Francis cleared his throat and asked, "Oui, oui, mon amour. So, what is your first class?"

Matthew grinned before replying, "English."

Francis jokingly stuck out his tongue and replied, "How boring, yet it's mine as well."

"Great," Matthew said, smiling. "So, what are we learning today?"

Francis tapped his chin and replied, "Romeo and Juliet."

"Really? I love that story," Matthew said, smiling more. "Do we get to read during class?"

Francis nodded, just as enthused now that Matthieu was, "Oui! Last time I got to be Mercutio!"

"Cool!" Matthew congratulated, giggling.

Francis nodded, then sighed in a slightly dreamy tone, "It's a beautiful tragedy, though I like Les Misérables much more in terms of classical literature."

"I've never actually read that," Matthew told him, still smiling. "I've always meant to, though."

Francis nodded, taking Matthew by the hand and walking with him down a flight of stairs, "The reason it's so personal for me, is that I remember hearing about the revolutions in France at the time, and feeling so torn for my country."

Matthew frowned. "Oh... That makes sense." He sighed inwardly; it seemed like Francis' life barely had anything happy in it... He hoped to help change that some day. Who knows, maybe he already was? He certainly did laugh a lot, as far as Matthew remembered.

"But on a positive note, I remember when World War two ended!" Francis remarked, eyes glowing, "And hearing about the resistance in France against the Nazis!

"Really? That's great!" Matthew said, smiling. He briefly wondered when they'd get to class, though; they had been walking for a while now.

Gazing about, Francis stopped and announced cheerily, "We're here, mon amour!"

"Great," Matthew said as he looked up at the cherry wood door. He thought that was an odd material to make a common, classroom door out of, but this school _was _a castle at one time. "Let's get inside before the bell rings."

Francis nodded, leading him inside the classroom.

When they arrived, the room was full of chatter. Until Francis stepped inside, that is, in which the loud room fell uncomfortably silent.

Matthew bit his lip before walking in and smiling at everyone, taking a seat at the nearest available desk.

Francis sat beside him, not paying anyone else except Matthew his attention till one student asked Matthew, "Are you really rooming with _it?_"

Matthew tilted his head slightly, a note of anger striking him. "It? You mean my polar bear, Kumi?"he asked, even though he knew who was talking about. "Well, yes - I've had him since I was small."

"No, not your bear, _that_," the outspoken student pointed out, pointing at Francis, "It's never had a roommate before." Some students snickered while other's murmured.

"Hm..." Matthew started, his eye starting to twitch. "I think that says a lot more about everyone else than _Francis_." He enunciated his name on purpose, getting tired of hearing "it."

"The Hell-" one student asked, before the other one interrupted, "What do you mean? That freak has a lot more explaining to do than I do."

"Well, have you actually tried talking to -" he stopped then, not knowing whether to say "him" or "her"... "... Francis?" he finished lamely.

"And why would I want to? A fruit like that?" the student rolled their eyes, "That _thing_ can't even decide what gender it is, let alone speak English!"

Matthew was confused yet again. "What do you mean?" he asked, glancing at Francis. "He speaks English just fine."

Francis looked down at the floor, not saying anything as he hid behind his hair.

The student glared down at the blonde, continuing, "So who made you room with the freak-"

"_He is not a freak!_" Matthew yelled, slamming his hands down on the desk and glaring at him. "How would you like it if everyone called "you a freak just because you actually did what you wanted instead of followed the crowd all the time!"

The student shot him a wicked laugh and replied, "Why should I worry? I actually _have _friends!"

Matthew grinned unexpectedly. "Oh, really?" he asked, unbelieving. "Tell me all of your friend's favorite colors, then. Or, better yet, when their birthdays are."

"Matthieu, your favorite color is red," Francis spoke up, but still stared down at the floor, "And your birthday is July first."

Matthew blinked at him in surprise. _How did he know that?!_ he wondered, but instead of asking he turned to the student smugly. "There. That's a true friend - he actually knows things about people. I bet you only know you're supposed "friends'" names."

The student glared heatedly and asked, "Oh, so that thing is a "he" today? What are you, his _boyfriend_?"

"Why? Jealous?" Matthew asked easily, sticking his tongue out at him.

"No, because I'm not gay like you two!" the student retorted smugly, "Or in the closet like that _thing!_"

"You're not happy?" Matthew asked mock-pitifully. "Oh, what a poor _thing_ you are." He purposefully enunciated "thing" since he hated hearing it so much, and also because he hoped it would annoy the other. "And he's not in the closet - he's right here." Yes, he knew both phrases were metaphors for something else, but he really didn't care at the moment. This guy was making him angry!

The incessantly rude student rolled his eyes. "Seems you're just as brain dead as it, too."

"Oh yes, because being able to speak French, English, _and _Latin, qualifies someone as braindead."

Francis perked up and asked Matthew something in French, his expression unconfident and hurt from the stares and gossip around him.

Matthew looked back at him and tilted his head. "What did you say?"

"Oh yeah, he's a "great" friend," the other student snickered, much to Matthew's dismay.

Shaking, Francis bolted out of his seat, whipped around, and yelled angrily in English, "You slimy, cowardly, rude, obnoxious jackass!"

"What was that!?" the student yelled, standing up and glaring at him. "How can _you_ possibly call _me_ those things!"

"As simply as you have called me almost the exact same things, you pitiful _swine,_" his gaze became cold as he stared, unwavering up at the other boy.

Unfortunately, he just scoffed as he turned to the class. "Look, everyone! It _can_ speak!" He turned back to Francis with the coldest stare Matthew had ever seen. "Let's see if it can _play dead,_ too."

Matthew's jaw dropped, refusing to believe that he had heard him correctly.

Francis backed up, eyes wide as his hand found Matthieu's, his shaking returning.

"Aw, and look," the student's taunting continued as he pointed at them. "He even found another little _thing_ to play with. Maybe they'll multiply and have a hideous little family together."

Matthew clenched his other hand into a fist, feeling anger bubble up inside him. Is this really what Francis had to deal with all day? _Every_ day?! "At least we won't be forever alone like _you_, you pompous, arrogant, bastard!" Matthew yelled at him, standing up so fast that he knocked his chair down again. He almost felt like throwing his chair at this kid...

Francis tightened his hold on his hand and whispered in French, "I should go, I am ruining your education-"

"I'll make you a deal, Matthew," the kid replied, interrupting Francis since he couldn't hear nor understand him. "You actually seem kind of cool - why don't you hang out with some actual people instead? I'll even let you transfer to my room so you won't be influenced by _it_ anymore."

Matthew tightened his grip on Francis' hand as he mumbled, "Why would I make that deal...?" He shook his head before sitting down again. "I've only known you for a few seconds and I already hate you. You may think you're "all that," but really, Francis is a better _person _than you any day."

The other kid was going to retort, but just then the bell rang and their teacher walked in.

Once the teacher arrived at the podium, the students sat down. Yet Francis didn't let go of Matthew's hand, still staring at the ground.

"All right, class!" the teacher said as she pushed her almost floor-length, brown hair behind her body. "We'll start today with -" she stopped suddenly as she looked at Francis and Matthew. "Francis, dear, can you please let go of poor Matthew's hand? He needs to write, you know."

Jolted out of his thoughts, he nodded and released his hand, muttering something in Latin.

"Do speak up," the teacher said before going to the board and writing "Romeo and Juliet" on it. "Anyways, today we will be reading the first scene for Romeo and Juliet! You can all grab your playbooks in the box near the window."

The class stood up almost in unison as the went to go get their books, but, somehow, Matthew found himself tripping over a misplaced foot as he walked...

"Oops, sorry," that incorrigible student sneered down at him.

Matthew glared up at him before standing up and dusting himself off. _He did that on purpose_... he thought to himself before smiling "kindly" and saying, "Ah, it's quite all right - I'm very clumsy."

The student seemed put off by his act, but he just kept walking.

Matthew huffed, continuing his walk. He knew that no good would come from starting a fight when a teacher was around... But it still pushed his buttons.

Francis sat back in his seat, flipping through the play book with a bored look on his face. Already his day seemed to start on the wrong foot, and to be honest, he wished the day was over...

"Who wants to read for Sampson?" the teacher asked, turning around. "Ah, Sam - how fitting! And who for Gregory...?" The rest of her instructions continued like that for a minute or two until every role was assigned. She then started with the narration, sounding very into it as she read.

Francis distantly read what was happening, while tuning out most of it, feeling as if there was a stone that had been sunk into his stomach. Sometimes he wondered why he continued to attend classes, but now he felt guilty. By being with Matthew he felt as if he wasn't complimenting him, but insulting and dragging him down as baggage instead. And he hated it - feeling as though he was ruining someone's well-earned experience.

Matthew, on the other hand, tried desperately to pay attention to what he was reading and hearing, but found that his mind would much rather rant and rave about the rudeness and audacity of the students here. Why did all of the students act this way towards Francis? He had expected the students to be a little weird towards him, but not this aggressive! He didn't even know people could act this mean - the bullies in his school had never told anyone to go _die_, or even _insinuate _that one should...

Even though he knew he shouldn't be thinking this way, he couldn't help but wonder... What had Francis done to deserve this treatment? He knew that it probably wasn't the boy's fault, but... Maybe he just did one little weird thing, or he's just incredibly shy, so everyone else started shunning him pretty much? What could it possibly be? He couldn't figure it out...

Eventually, class let out as the bell rang, their teacher reminding them to study the prologue for tomorrow.

Quickly packing his things, Francis hid behind his hair and felt warm tears slide down his

cheeks, his guilt and fear starting to overtake his sense of rationality.

"Look," the same, idiotic student muttered to another. "It's hiding behind it's hideously long hair again."

Matthew just seethed silently to himself as he stood up and walked out of the classroom, grabbing Francis by the arm as he did. "Come on - what's your next class?" he asked almost forcefully.

"S-Science!" Francis choked out, tears flooding down his cheeks as his eye liner ran.

Matthew stopped once he heard how broken his voice sounded, the anger in him completely melting as he turned around and looked at him pitifully. "Sorry... Oh, look at you..." He reached a hand up to wipe some of his tears before sighing. "Where's the nearest bathroom?"

"A few feet away," Francis replied, sniffling and pointing down the hall, "B-But you shouldn't be late to class j-just because of me-"

"Do you honestly think I'll be able to pay attention in class if you're like this?" Matthew asked, shaking his head as he walked down to the bathroom. "Come on - let's get that stuff off of you."

Francis nodded, following and gazing down at his sock-covered feet.

Matthew didn't have time to admire the majestic bathroom as he set to work grabbing paper towels and dampening them. It still amazed him how nearly every bathroom in the school looked completely different - usually school bathrooms looked remarkably plain and boring, and yet these ones almost seemed like 5-star hotel's bathrooms. Nevertheless, he didn't stop to gawk as he started wiping the inky, black makeup off of Francis. "If only this stuff was waterproof..." he muttered, smiling at him.

Francis giggled through his tears, scrunching his nose as he nodded, "I know, but the bottle said 1955..."

Matthew tilted his head to the side. "Why does that matter?"

"It's really old makeup," he replied, sniffling some more.

"... So, it sticks better?" Matthew asked sheepishly. "I don't wear makeup..."

"Non, I just don't own new things," Francis answered.

"... Oh." Matthew threw one of his paper towels away before starting with another one. "Maybe one day I'll buy you something new, then."

Francis blushed and asked softly, "You don't think it's weird that I like makeup?"

Matthew chuckled slightly. "Oh, no - I find it very weird," he started, chuckling at the confused look face he gave him. "I just don't see the point in making fun of something just because they may do something "weird." We all do pretty weird things, now and then..." He patted Francis on the cheek, smiling at his now-clear face. "Besides, with how much you pride yourself on appearances it kind of seems natural for you to wear it. Although you do look fine without it."

Francis blushed more and replied quietly, "I know, I just wanted to make you look even better than me by comparison."

Matthew frowned. "Don't do that..." he shook his head. "Don't do things to degrade yourself...But anyways, we better get going. I'll walk you to your next class."

Francis nodded, then leaned over and kissed Matthew on the cheek, whispering, "Thank you."

Blushing slightly, Matthew smiled at him with half-closed eyes. "You're welcome…."

**Author's Note, TheGuardianKnux: Sorry for the long waiting time- had some behind the scenes hiccups but now we're far ahead- at least 400 pages! :D So I hope you like this chapter!**


	8. The Tests of Friendship

Soon it was lunchtime, much to both Matthew and Francis' relief. It had seemed that word about Matthew and Francis being "boyfriends" had traveled around the school incredibly quickly, which meant that Matthew had to put up with all of the student torture that Francis received on a daily basis, too. But he didn't mind_ too_ much... Except when he heard all of the awful, unbelievably immature and stupid things they said about the blonde.

_"Look, what gender is that?"_

_"Are those lesbians?"_

_"Ugh, why can't she stop clinging to him-"_

"_Don't you have a life!?_" Matthew remembered hissing at one gossiping girl.

… Yeah... so far, his school life wasn't going as well as he'd hoped... Usually he kept to himself, but hearing all of these people constantly hurting Francis like that really... well, got to him, and seemed to trigger his anger much more easily.

Francis tried to ignore all the hateful words, but every single one stabbed him like an angry hornet and made him feel more guilty as the day progressed. He knew if he wasn't there, Matthew could be having a much better day. And wouldn't have to deal with him being a burden...

"Wow, they have really good food here," Matthew said offhandedly as he looked down at what they were serving. It appeared to me some sort of vegetable-baked pie.

Francis looked down dully and nodded, picking up the rather nice meal with his fork and eating it ideally, "Oui, but it is not your food."

Matthew laughed slightly. "Come on - you still have to eat it. Do I have to feed you like Kumi?"

Francis blushed slightly and challenged with a wry smile, "And how do you feed him?"

Matthew tilted his head and chuckled. "I fed him this morning, remember?"

Francis thought back and shook his head, replying, "Non, I do not..."

Matthew chuckled and picked up a piece of his dish with his fork before holding it out to him. "I just feed him with a fork - like so."

Francis tentatively opened his mouth, kicking his legs together as he closed his eyes. His curl molded into a heart as his lips closed around the fork.

Matthew laughed at the sight when all of a sudden these graceful, whispered words came to his ear:

"Wow, it can't even feed itself anymore."

"They really _are_ together."

"How sickening..."

Matthew frowned before taking the fork out of Francis' mouth, hiding his displeasure at how no one could just _mind their own business_ for the other's sake. "Do you like it better now?" he asked, smiling.

Francis nodded, licking his lips and replying jovially, "It tastes better that way~"

Matthew chuckled, even though dread appeared in his stomach. He did not want to deal with all of the students wondering and gossiping about him feeding Francis... "Well, let's go eat outside," he said casually. "I like the fresh air."

Francis smiled, enthused, and got up with him. His guilt was starting to become a lot less heavier...

"Great." Matthew stood up, grabbing his tray and walking out to the courtyard. "Isn't it better out here?" he asked before hearing a familiar, British voice.

"There you two are!" Arthur announced as he smiled at Matthew and Francis. "How were your classes so far?"

Francis' eyes darkened and he looked away, saying nothing.

Matthew, on the other hand, smiled sheepishly at Arthur. "It was... well, not like I expected, I guess..."

Arthur laughed a bit nervously and rubbed the top of his head. "I suppose I should have gathered that from all the rumors I've been hearing..."

Francis looked down, wishing he could blend into the wall as they spoke.

Matthew sighed slightly, but then he looked at Francis. "It's fine, really," he said, trying to cheer him up. "I mean, why would I want to be friends with such jerks anyways?"

The blonde's gaze brightened as he gazed up into Matthew's eyes, taken aback by what he had said.

Arthur just nodded his approval. "That's exactly what I think!" He clapped Matthew on the back, winking as he said, "So, are you excited to be learning how to use a sword?"

Matthew laughed nervously. "Ah, so you did hear about that..."

"Of course!" Arthur said, smiling. "Alfred told me. Said he thought you were mental to agree so quickly, but I just told him that was destiny at work."

Francis looked up more and smiled, replying, "Matthieu is so brave, of course he would accept!"

Shaking his head, Matthew just replied weakly, "I'm really not that brave..." He knew it was pointless to disagree, of course, since Francis would just come up with a million reasons why he _was_ the thing he said he was, but still... He couldn't help but deny it at least once.

"Non, you're brave, you've been putting up with this place, haven't you?" Francis pointed out, raising a brow.

_Knew it_, Matthew thought before shrugging. "I suppose..."

"If you want, I could find a good revenge spell," Arthur offered, chuckling.  
Francis contemplated it, a slightly wicked look on his face before he shrugged and shook his head, "Non, we don't want to be as bad as them now, do we?"

"Non," Matthew agreed, shaking his head and not even noticing that the French word had meandered its way into his vocabulary.

Francis smiled lightly at that, then grinned at Arthur, pointing out, "Look who influenced him~"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Are you still going on about language superiority?" he asked drably. "May I remind you that he only speaks English even if he lives in a French-invaded country?"

Francis stuck out his tongue playfully and retorted, "But he has French class, and I will be his tutor after all~"

Arthur just rolled his eyes again. "Matthew, what language do you like better so far?"

"Um..." Matthew started, looking between them. "Well... French is fun to pronounce..." He quickly continued when he saw Francis smile triumphantly, "But English is funner grammar-wise since it makes no sense sometimes."

Arthur chuckles slightly. "You're wise for not wanting to get involved with me and Francis little language toss-up."

Francis pouted and stuck out his tongue at Arthur, "But your English is brutish and pagan!"

Arthur was about to retort when Matthew said quietly, "But I rather like the sound of British accents..."

Francis stared for a moment and then coughed, asking in his best imitation of a British accent, which actually sounded pretty good, "Is that so, love?"

Matthew blinked up at him before smiling. "Wow, that was really good!"

Arthur scoffed. "Now, why can't you speak properly like that all the time?"

Francis smirked and replied, "Because, lad, it sounds uncultured," he then turned to Matthew and bowed, "And thank you sir."

Matthew giggled and bowed to him as well, trying his best to imitate a British accent as well. "You're most welcome, love."

Arthur stared at him before grinning, reaching forward and hugging him. Which was weird enough for Matthew, since Arthur seemed like the type of person who didn't hug other much, but it was even weirder when he felt himself being spun around. "Oh, that accent sounds so cute when you say it!-!"Arthur exclaimed, laughing happily. "Promise me you'll talk like that all the time!"

Francis scoffed and glared at Arthur, replying haughtily, "Non! If he did, he would start to have terrible eyebrows and cooking problems!" he then narrowed his eyes and added firmly, "And I adore his cooking, so don't screw this up, _black sheep of Europe_."

Arthur immediately stopped spinning Matthew around. Setting him down gently, he told him, "I do apologize, Matthew, for what you're about to see..."

Turning to Francis, Arthur immediately started yelling, "_Who are you calling the black sheep of Europe, you cowardly plague of a human being!-!-!_" as his eyes started twitching.

Francis immediately stopped smiling as his face fell, his eyes going out of focus. Arthur's words rang in his head and before he knew it, he was running out of the room, sobbing.

"Francis...!" Matthew called to him worriedly before turning to Arthur and yelling, "Why did you say that!?"

"I - I didn't mean..." Arthur started pathetically as he turned pale. He shook his head before chasing after him. "He's going to the library! Come on!-!"

Matthew followed after him, finding the sight of chasing someone all too familiar for his tastes. Oh, why did those two always have to insult each other?! Something like this was bound to happen sooner or later!

Francis continued to run till he found himself having accidently ran into a corner, with Arthur and Matthew approaching him, causing him to back up and then curl into a ball, heaving with sobs.

"Francis..." Arthur started with a frown as he walked up to him. "You know I didn't mean what I said..."

"Bastard!" Francis snapped at him, getting ready to hit him for what he said, "I already know I am, so you don't have to point out the obvious!"

Cringing, Arthur closed his eyes. "Francis... you're not -"

"Why would you listen to Arthur?" Matthew asked, frowning as he knelt down next to Francis. "You know he doesn't say what he means - he denied his love for Alfred for so long -"

"Hey!" Arthur interjected, but no one paid him any mind.

"- and even if he did mean what he said, you need to know that it's not true." Matthew smiled kindly at him. "I'd like to see where half the people you'd met would be without you coming into their lives... I may not know how you spent the past three centuries, but I know you must have helped a lot of people. Because that's just the kind of person you are - not a plague."

Sniffling, he gazed up at Matthew, eyes wide and asked in a small voice, "Really?"

"Of course," Matthew told him, laughing a little. "Have I lied to you yet?"

Francis shook his head, smiling more as he wrapped his arms around Matthew and hugged him tightly, nuzzling his cheek.  
"Thank you, Matthieu," he whispered softly, closing his eyes.

"You're welcome," Matthew replied with a smile.

Arthur gazed at the two warmly, thinking how... perfect they looked together. He also couldn't help but admire Matthew's kindness - he was much better at comforting Francis when he was like this than he _ever_ was, that was for certain.

Francis noticed Arthur's gaze and stared at him, his gaze hurt and still slightly upset, causing the other to frown and kneel down as well. "I'm sorry, Francis..." he muttered, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. "But... surely I've said worse things to you before?"

Stubbornly, Francis replied," Non, you haven't!"  
Arthur just rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever..."

Francis pouted, and shifted out of his hug with Matthew and hugged Arthur, kissing both his cheeks.

Arthur just laughed a bit at his actions. "I'll never get used to that French tradition."

Francis chuckled and replied, batting his eyelashes, "Maybe I should teach it to Alfred~"

Blushing furiously now, Arthur squeaked out, "Please don't..."

Matthew giggled. "I think it'd be good information for him to have~" he joined in.

Arthur covered his face. "You're both determined to ruin my life, aren't you?"

"I think we've just made it better," Matthew said with a laugh.

Francis smiled as well and teased, "If I wasn't in it, then you would be deprived of decent cooking!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I actually like my food, thank you very much!" he snapped, putting his hands in the shape of fists on his hips.

Francis whistled and then went behind Arthur and whispered lowly into his ear, "Do you? Maybe you should try some French dishes~"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Is that supposed to be some sort of sick innuendo? Even if it's not, I don't like all of those different spices you Frenchmen use."

"Sauces dear, its sauces," Francis replied, rolling his eyes and then whispering lowly again, "And possibly~ I couldn't help myself~"

Arthur chuckled and smirked. "Oh really? Wait until I tell Alfred what you just said..."

He shrugged and whispered back, "Go ahead, I'll have a Canadian instead to keep my company at night~"

Arthur blushed slightly. "And just what are you implying!?" he demanded.

"I wish you would stop whispering..." Matthew mumbled. He couldn't understand a word Francis was saying... and seeing Arthur's reactions were just making him more curious.  
Francis looked over at Matthew and gave a wink before replying loudly, "Go ahead and tell Alfred, Arthur, I'm sure he would _love _to keep you company at night!" He then added with a slight purr, "_Alone~_"

Arthur's hair stood up on end as heat waves attacked his face as well as the rest of his body. "Y-you're disgusting!-!"

Matthew chuckled slightly. "Maybe you two could request a room transfer so you could be together?"

Arthur blushed even more as he stood up and looked between the both of them. "... D-don't mention that around Alfred," he almost begged. "He m-might actually do it..."

Francis smirked and sang, "I think I shall, mon ami~"

Arthur's eyes widened just before he got on his knees and grabbed part of Francis' dress. "No! Please!-! I'm begging you...!"

"Why is that so bad?" Matthew asked with the tilt of his head. "I'm pretty sure Alfred wouldn't do anything you wouldn't want him to..."

Arthur froze as he looked down to the floor. "I know," he started quietly, "but... it's... It's just a matter of principle..."

"And you peeping under my skirt isn't?" Francis asked, gazing at Arthur with a raised brow.

Arthur growled at him and stood up. "I was not doing anything of the sort!-! Why do you always say that every time you wear a dress!?"

"To make you look flustered~" Francis replied, taking the hem of his skirts and flashing Arthur before taking Matthew by the hand and running down the hall, laughing and yelling, "Anyways, we're going to tell Alfred your request!"

"_GET BACK HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT!" _Arthur yelled as he ran after them at top speed. Grinding his teeth, he thought angrily to himself, _As if flashing me wasn't enough to make me hurt you...!_

"J'taime, mon ami!" Francis sang back, laughing as he and Matthew took a sharp turn.

Laughing as well, Matthew asked, "Do you _always _tease Arthur like this?"

Francis nodded, leading Matthew into the library and towards the back, "All the time, mon amour, its a hobby of sorts, non?

Matthew giggled slightly as he looked behind him. Arthur was catching up surprisingly fast. "Oui, but we better step up our pace!-!"  
Francis grinned, taking them into a far corner and hiding them in a thicket of shelves. Bending down, Francis tripped and brought Matthew down tight on top of them, putting them in, well... A rather compromising-looking pose, their legs and arms even tangled.

Matthew blushed almost as much as Arthur did as he tried to disentangle himself. "S-sorry!

Francis blushed darkly as well and tried to move, only to notice their curls were tangled, making him blush more.  
"U-Um - Matthieu!" He squeaked, as Matthew tried to untangle them, only for the taller of the two to fall back on top of Francis, "Arthur will find us if we keep this up!"  
Francis heard Arthur's footsteps approaching, making him hold his breath, praying that he wouldn't find them.

Matthew groaned and blushed even more as he felt his curl being pulled. "Stupid, little..." he mumbled bad words to himself as he tried to get off of Francis, all the while his curl being pulled and making his insides writhe.

Francis blushed darkly, hearing the footsteps becoming louder as he whispered urgently, "P-please wait, Matthieu!"

Matthew stopped, the footsteps finally reaching his ears as well. He closed his eyes and prayed as well that they wouldn't be found like this...

Suddenly the footsteps stopped, and they heard Arthur's voice right above their tangled mess.

"Where did they go!?" He looked around frustratedly, not knowing that he had traveled down the wrong aisle and was actually in the one right before the one they were in. "I'll find you two yet, don't you worry!" Arthur called as he ran off again.

Francis blushed more as he felt Matthew's breath on his neck, sending goosebumps across his skin.

"Thank goodness he didn't see us..." Matthew breathed out in a sigh before blushing more and trying again to pull himself off of Francis.

It still didn't seem to be working though, as the other boy blushed the more Matthew kept trying to untangle their curls.

Eventually, Matthew gave up and just laid down on him fully. "This isn't working..." he muttered, reaching a hand up and trying to at least get their curls untangled.

Francis made a slightly pained noise and whimpered, gazing into his eyes, "That hurts..."

Surprised, Matthew stopped trying to sort their curls out. "Oh, sorry..." He sighed before trying less ferociously to get off of him, finding that this was working much better.

Suddenly they heard footsteps again, making Francis squeak and Matthew drop down in top of him again, their curls getting even more tangled together, causing them both to groan inwardly. Why was this happening to them?

They heard a British accent and some loud laughter, causing them to both blush more at the idea of the two finding them stuck this way...

"We must stay as quiet as a mouse!" Matthew whispered quickly, closing his eyes and hoping beyond hope that they don't find them...

Francis gazed into his eyes, his stomach twisting in knots at the thought of Matthew's body being right on top of his, causing him to whisper, "You're warm~"

"... Th-thanks?" Matthew replied, almost inaudibly. The comment caused him to blush more, and shiver as he realized just how cold the other still was...

Breathing stilly, stuck close together, they tried listening past their pounding hearts as-

"Dude! I found them!" Alfred called, snickering and then taking out a camera, snapping photos of the two on the ground, "This is going into my collection!"

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked as he walked up. "What's going in your -? _What the hell!?" _he exclaimed upon seeing them, immediately blushing and covering his eyes. "Good Lord - if you two wanted some privacy, you should have just said so..."

"Please..." Matthew whimpered, blushing even more now. "Just help us get unstuck... and stop taking photos!-!"

Francis blushed a tomato red and added, "I would have more taste than doing it in a _library, _mon ami! N-Now help us!"

Alfred took more photos, giggling as he asked, "Can't we just keep them like this? It's adorable!"

"Hmm..." Arthur considered with a smirk, holding a hand up to his chin. "Well, they _are _always trying to meddle in my love life..."

"Arthur!" Francis whinnied, wiggling under Matthew, which caused the other to turn an even deeper shade of red.

"Th-they're not going to help," Matthew said between his teeth, ignoring all of his more... primal urges. "Just st-stay calm and we can get out of this..."

Francis nodded, stopping his writhing and glaring out at Arthur he hissed urgently, "Come on! We're dying over here!"

"Knowing you, you're probably enjoying it," Arthur mumbled before rolling his eyes and walking over to them. "Very well - here, takes your arms out from under his. Oh, your buttons are caught, as well - that might be helpful..." He narrated as he helped them out from one another.

Alfred kept snapping more photos and begged Arthur, in his most precious voice, "Can't we keep them like that for an hour? I have to update various accounts with these pictures, and I need more than just one!"

Arthur chuckled and patted him on the head fondly. "Now now, Alfred dear - you've been snapping an hour a minute. Surely you have _plenty_ to humiliate them with and post on your sites."

"I do, I do, but I have to give some references to Kiku so he can draw some manga of the two of them to go on my shelf!" Alfred declared proudly, his braces-induced lisp coming into place because of his excitement.

Arthur chuckled slightly. "You sound so cute when you break into your lisp..." he muttered, looking at the ground and blushing slightly.

"Thanks for helping us," Matthew told him sarcastically as he still tried to untangle their curls, his blush growing hotter and hotter each time it was pulled...  
Alfred blushed slightly and giggled, asking, "You sure? I think I sound awful spitty..." Which only enforced Matthew's belief that the two would probably not notice if they were the last two people on Earth right now...  
"Love birds! We need help over here, stat!" Francis called, face contorting into a mess of blushing frustration as he tried to undo their legs.

Arthur giggled before bending down and sorting out their legs. "You two have to admit," he said with a smile, "it's a funny situation!"

Francis blushed more and objected heatedly, "Non! Not when I'm kind of being squished!" he then gazed back up at Matthew and apologized softly, "No offense, Matthieu..."

"What?" Matthew asked, too flustered and preoccupied with their curls to have heard him. "Ah, it's fine..."

Alfred snapped some more pictures with glee, singing, "Francis and Matthew, laying on the floor~"

Arthur laughed, continuing the song, "Tang-led-up-for-ev-er-more~"

Francis and Matthew blushed even more, their curl's still mixed up as they heard Alfred answer back, "First comes a lot of looooooovvveee~"

Laughing more, Arthur added easily, "Then comes marriage~!"

Francis whined and fell back down to the floor as the two finished together, with Matthew falling right back on top of him, holding back a moan as his curl was pulled so much. "Then comes a baby in a baby carriage!"

"I hate you..." Matthew mumbled into Francis' neck. "Arthur, Alfred..."

Francis shivered as his face flared up so much, making him feel dizzy as he begged weakly, "Please... H-Help..."

Arthur stared at them pitifully now, snapping his fingers at Alfred and smiling at him weakly. "Alfred, dear, please - no more pictures..." It was obvious this situation _was_ entirely uncomfortable for them... And, if it had been he and Alfred in this situation, he would want some assistance as well...

Alfred's curl drooped as he pocketed his camera, nodding and gazing down at them, asking nonchalantly with a happy sigh, "So, which one's the seme Arthur?"

Arthur blushed, sputtering, "I - I very well don't know!-!"

Francis gave a whimper as he complained to Matthew, "Matthieu, I-I don't feel so well..."

Matthew frowned at him, looking at their still-entangled curls. "I'm sorry, but... I have to get them undone..."

He coughed weakly, his eyes looking dulled over as he whispered, "I-It's ok Matthieu, it isn't your fault..."  
"That. Is. So. Kawaii!" Alfred squeaked, grabbing his camera and taking more pictures, "ARTHUR! YOU HAVE TO AGREE WITH ME ON THIS!"

Arthur chuckled slightly and, with a wink at Francis, said smoothly, "Sorry, but you're the only cute thing I see anymore~"

Alfred blushed and mumbled almost incoherently, "Y-Yeah... Except look at how they're both blushing..."

Arthur chuckled slightly and looked at them, finding a giggle escape his mouth. Alfred was right, as he always was about these things; they looked _incredibly_ adorable, almost like two little guilty kittens.

Francis shuddered and coughed, his lashes fluttering shut as he asked softly, "M-Matthieu, why is it g-getting darker?"

Matthew's eyes widened as he immediately stopped trying to untangle their curls. "Francis... Is _your_ soul in your curl!?" he asked in a panic.

Alfred tried to stifle his laughter till he broke down, howling with giggles, snorts and chuckles at Matthew's question.  
Francis shook his head, groaning and replying, "N-Non... I-I'm just starting to feel dizzy with h-how much you cause me to blush..."

Matthew blushed even more, both from embarrassment caused by his naive question and also from the heat of their conversation. "O-oh... Sorry..."

Alfred continued to giggle hysterically as he snorted to Arthur, "I think Matthew's the seme, just sayin'~"

"What's seme?" Matthew asked, tilting his head to the side and immediately moaning softly. Damn it, he forgot his curl was still attached...

Francis squeaked in surprise, eye widening as he tried to look away.  
Alfred snorted some more and asked Arthur, "Should I really tell him?"

Arthur shook his head. "No, not right now..." He turned to them and said,"Stay still - I'll be right back with some detangler spray. I _would_ use my wand, but I don't really trust the thing..."

Francis nodded, regretting it as he felt dizzier and mumbled, "What Alfred means, is who is the one "on top," of this relationship... And I would say it's you right about now..." the blonde trailed off, shivering under Matthew's weight and coughing.

"... On... top?" Matthew echoed, creasing his eyebrows together. He wasn't quite...!

He blushed furiously as he realized what he was getting at. "Th-that's such a stupid thing!-!-!" he yelled before grinding his teeth and yanking his curl out of Francis', cringing as his body started contorting with shivers.

Francis yelped and shivered as well, curling up into a ball and coughing and sneezing.

Alfred stared, drooling, and soon noticed blood dripping from his nose to the floor as Arthur came back into the room, watching the scene unfold."Geez, I leave for ten, bloody seconds..." he muttered before taking out a handkerchief and tossing it to Alfred. "You've got a little something on your nose, dear. Luckily I'm used to carrying tissues around you."

Alfred pouted and held it to his nose, arguing, "Hey! I can't help it if it is natural, male reaction!"

Arthur just chuckled. "You don't see me bleeding, do you?"

"You didn't see the "magic" happen!" Alfred replied, pouting some more.

"You're all sickos," Matthew said as he stood up. "Absolutely dreadful!" he finished in his mock-British accent.

Arthur smiled kindly at him, practically cooing, "That still sounds so adorable coming from you~"

Francis groaned, eyes closed as he sniffled and reminded the other three, "I'm slowly dying down here..."

"Francis!" Matthew yelled, immediately bending down again and feeling his temperature. He immediately had to retract his hand, though - he was burning up! "Yikes! I think you're overheated!" he exclaimed. And considering how cold he usually felt... he _definitely_ was overheating!

"I-I think I have a-" he sneezed then coughed, groaning as his curl bent into a zig zagged shape, "Cold!"

"Oh, poor thing..." Matthew mumbled, frowning. He picked him up bridal style before looking up at the other two. "Could you guys tell our next class we'll be late? We have history."

"Oh, I know you two have some history~" Alfred snickered slyly, wiggling his eyebrows only to be slapped by Arthur.

"How many times have I told you, that joke is just plain idiotic!" he told him, frowning. "And be more considerate - Francis is obviously very sick..."

Francis coughed and asked Matthew weakly, "W-Will you stay with me, mon amour?"

Matthew smiled down at him kindly. "Of course. I'm smart - I'll be able to catch up in no time."

Francis smiled and nuzzled into him, closing his eyes and not noticing that Alfred was taking pictures again.

Arthur smiled at them. "I'm sure you'll take good care of Francis, Matthew," he said decisively, nodding. "I'll be sure to tell them."

"Thanks," Matthew said, smiling at him. He started walking down the hallway then, off to their room. "Oh, and by the way," Matthew added with a smirk, turning around. "Alfred, don't you think it'd be neat if you and Arthur shared a room...?"

Arthur stared at the Canadian in horror, whereas Alfred just stared and then gaped like a fish before bouncing excitedly and nodding. "HELLS YEAH! Artie!" he called, tackling Arthur to the ground in a flurry of sloppy, wet kisses, "I'M GOING TO BE MOVING IN WITH YOU!"

Arthur blushed considerably before glaring at Matthew, grinding his teeth. "How... wonderful..."

Alfred cheered and then kissed Arthur roughly on the lips, "We'll have so many awesome sleepovers!"

Blushing even more, Arthur just said quietly, "Sounds great... Dear, pl-please get off of me, now..." He really did not like showing huge displays of public affection... Yesterday had been the exception, since everything had happened so fast.

Alfred pouted and then brightened, remarking, "Come on, my cute little bunny rabbit, we must tell the whole world how we shall be sleeping, bathing, and eating together for the REST OF OUR LIVES!"

Arthur groaned before covering his face "Please, _please_ no... I'll do anything, Alfred..."  
"COME ON, TWINKY WINKY!" he picked Arthur up and carried him over his shoulder," WE SHALL ANNOUNCE TO THE WORLD OUR LOVE!"

"I'll - I'll cosplay with you if you don't!-!" Arthur yelled hastily, paling immediately after he said that. He really, _really_ should not have agreed to cosplay with Alfred...

Alfred stopped and stared, drooling for a moment and asking, "R-Really? Will you be the Tuxedo Mask to my Sailor Moon?!"

"... Um, yes?" Arthur replied, not entirely sure what he was getting himself into.

Alfred sang in delight and dragged him down the hall, singing, "Pon pon wei wei wei, wei wei pon pon wei pon pon!"  
Francis weakly opened his eyes and watched the two leave, his breaths coming out in short pants as he commented softly, "T-That's nice..."

Matthew frowned down at him. "Yeah, but now let's get you back to the room..." He started walking again, saying under his breath, "You should probably take a cold bath first thing..."

"Will you take it with me?" he asked innocently, closing his eyes and breathing shallowly, "I-I don't want to be sucked down the drain..."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "You won't be sucked down the drain... And no, I _really_ don't feel comfortable taking a b-bath with you..." He blushed slightly, their little struggle on the library floor still fresh in his mind.

"Pwease?" Francis begged, a blush still on his face.

Matthew shook his head. "No way, I'm sorry..."

Francis sniffled, his eyes watering as he gazed up longingly at him, "B-But the bathtub is scary..."

Matthew sighed. "Francis, I washed you in it this morning and everything was fine..."

Coughing, he begged once more in his most pathetic voice, "P-Please?"

Looking down at the pitiful boy, he frowned. Why did he want this so badly!? Why couldn't he understand how... awkward the mere thought of the idea was to him! "Francis, it's..." he shivered and blushed more. "It's not normal... You're a big boy - you can bathe by yourself."

Francis whimpered. "B-But I don't want to be alone..."

… Well, that certainly broke most of Matthew's resolve.

He sighed. _I can't believe I'm about to say this..._ he thought to himself before saying, "All right, I'll take a bath with you... On _one_ condition!" he quickly added once he saw Francis' face light up.

"W-What?" Francis asked, smiling more and blinking open his eyes.

Matthew sighed. "You heard me... but we both have to be wearing swimsuits, okay?"

Francis then groaned and replied, "B-But I don't have one..."

"Then I guess you'll be borrowing even more of my clothes," Matthew replied stubbornly. "Otherwise there is _no way_ I am getting into that bath."

Francis nodded, rubbing an eye and replying, "O-Oui, I promise I will."

Matthew smiles slightly at him, thinking that he looked kind of cute rubbing his eye like that... It was probably still his curl talking.

Francis yawned, and asked, "Matthew... I-I have a question..."

"Hm? What is it?"

"A-Are you attracted to males, females, or both?" he asked drowsily.

"... Um..." Matthew started, blushing. "Well..." he sighed, looking away and feeling slightly uncomfortable. "B-both, I guess..."

"So do I..." Francis replied, cuddling against Matthew and making him blush even more.

_I could have guessed that..._ Matthew thought, sighing to himself as he stepped up his pace. _Logic is really telling me not to get into a bath with him..._He looked down at Francis again, seeing how calm he was right now, but remembering how vulnerable he always seemed... _But my stupid heart is telling me to just jump in..._

Once they arrived in the room, Matthew laid Francis down on the bed and went to the bathroom to start their bath. He was already cringing from the cold temperature; he had always hated taking cold baths... Cold weather he could handle, but why would he want to rest in cold water?

Francis curled up and watched him, smiling and blushing. Despite feeling terrible, he had to be honest that he didn't mind Matthew having been stuck against him.

Keeping an eye on the bath, Matthew walked over to his dresser and took out two pairs of swimming trunks, handing one to Francis. "Here, put these on - I'll change in the bathroom."

Francis nodded, slipping them on after having taken off his dress.

Matthew, on the underhand, just stared at the trunks after locking himself in the bathroom, the running water a distant reminder of what he had agreed to... Sighing he started slipping off his clothes. _Well, no backing out now, I suppose..._

Francis waited for the door to open, wishing he had enough strength to get up but realizing he didn't. He smiled when it finally did open, though, revealing a rather flustered-looking Matthew.

"Well, the bath's ready..." he muttered, holding his clothes tightly to his chest in an attempt to cover himself up for as long as possible.

Francis gave him a weakened look and asked, "Will you please help me?"

Matthew's eyes filled with pity. "... Can you not even walk?" he asked quietly before placing his clothes on the ground and walking over to him.

Francis nodded, trying to lift his arms out to him as he replied, sniffling, "I-I'm sorry..."

Matthew sighed. "It's all right... It's not like it's your fault." He picked him up bridal style again, since he found it was the most convenient way to hold people, and carried him to the bath. "Here, be careful - it's really cold."

Francis bit his lip and nodded, clinging to him and blushing at the way he was being carried.

He placed him in the bath slowly, shivering himself when his arms touched the cold water. When he was fully in, he asked, "Does that feel nice?"

The blonde nodded, nuzzling close to him and mumbling something incoherent.

Matthew smiled at him, sighing as he sat down on the floor and rested his head on the bathtub wall. He really didn't want to jump in there...

Francis hugged his arm, nuzzling it and mumbling into it just continued to look at him with a smile. "And just what are you mumbling into my arm?" he asked whimsically.

"J'taime... Matthieu..." Francis said louder, blushing and burrowing his face more into his arm.

Blushing now, Matthew just mumbled, "Oh..." before exhaling and standing up. "Well, I'm coming in..." he said almost dreadfully.

Francis perked up, his half lidded eyes watching as Matthew got in. He longed for the other to hold him close to make sure that he didn't fall in.

Matthew took a deep breath before plunging in, shivering and immediately hugging himself. "St-st-stupid c-c-cold..." he chattered, his teeth moving despite his will.

"D-Do you want me to heat you up?" Francis asked innocently, gazing up at Matthew.

Matthew was about to say no, but he hesitated as he realized just how cold he was - it was as if someone had filled his veins with ice water... "S-s-sure..." he stuttered, wondering if it was from the cold or at the thought of Francis "warming him up."

Francis inched up, draping himself over Matthew's lap and resting his head in the crook of his elbow.

Matthew chuckled slightly, his teeth still chattering. "Th-that's hardly the way to w-warm someone up-p..."

"Should I tug your curl, then?" Francis replied bluntly, yawning and nuzzling Matthew's skin.

Matthew blushed, shivering slightly. "N-no, never mind..." He sighed, blushing more as he remembered how disgustingly good it felt to have his curl pulled... The way Francis was surrounding him now wasn't helping, either.

Francis shifted so that he was gazing up at him and commented, "I really wish I knew how I managed to trip that bad in the library..."

Matthew stuck his tongue out, closing his eyes. "So do I..."

Looking away, the blonde asked, "Did I hurt you trying to get out from under you?"

Shaking his head, Matthew replied quickly. "Nope! Not at all, but apparently I squished you..."

They both blushed in unison as they looked away for a moment while Francis mumbled, "It doesn't help that you're bigger..."

Matthew shifted uncomfortably, not sure if he was talking about his body mass or... something else. "S-sorry..."

"I-It's alright..." Francis reassured him, blushing more and adding, "It felt warm and comforting somehow..."

Matthew chuckled. "I'm glad..." Sighing, he slipped into the water even more, shivering immensely as he did so.

Francis asked curiously, lashes fluttering, "Um... Were you enjoying it? Because you made some really odd noises..."

Matthew blushed, shaking slightly. "I, I... N-no, well, y-yes, but..." He groaned as he held up his two cold hands to cover his now-overheated face. "It's hard to explain..."

Yawning, Francis insisted as he sat up, pressing himself close to Matthew's chest, "We have time, go ahead and tell me."

Shivering again, Matthew peeked pathetically through his fingers. "Fine... Y-you know that... that l-lust thing?"

He cocked his head and asked, "What thing?"

"Just, the emotion in general..." Matthew explained, covering his eyes again. Francis was probably going to be disgusted with him after he told him... Heaven knows he already hated himself for it.

Francis weakly hugged him and comforted, "I know you have good intentions towards me, so I'm not disgusted if that's what you're thinking."

Matthew frowned and tried to make himself as small as possible. "It's not just that..." he whimpered. "Every freaking time my curl is pulled... That happens..." _Surely he'll hate me after hearing that..._

Francis' lips brushed his cheek as he replied, "It's alright, we all have embarrassing things about ourselves."

"..." Matthew peeked at Francis through his fingers, blushing. "You... You don't hate me...?" He was greatly surprised; he had thought that Francis hated people who lusted instead of loved...

Francis shook his head, smiling softly and breathing shallowly, "Non, I understand, mon amour.

Matthew smiled, happy tears springing to his eyes as he hugged him, his curl turning into the shape of a heart again unbeknownst to him. "Thank you..." he whispered genuinely, a single tear landing on Francis' skin. For so long he had been ashamed of what he felt whenever his curl was even touched, let alone pulled, and now someone was taking that information and... and telling him that it was okay. That he still wanted to be his friend...

Francis felt the tear roll down his skin, causing him to widen his eyes. Smiling, he nuzzled close and brushed his lashes against Matthew's cheek and whispered, "You're welcome, Matthew... A-And, I'll - I'll always lo-like you no matter w-what..." Francis finished, stammering slightly as he did so.

Matthew giggled, so overcome with emotions that he even kissed Francis on the cheek. "Thank you," he repeated, not sure how else to show his gratitude for being accepted.

Francis felt his face heat up, surprised Matthew would show him affection this time instead of the other way around!

Eventually, Matthew stopped hugging him and sat back down in the water, chuckling. "This is almost room temperature now," he said as he splashed around a bit.

Francis yawned and leaned against him, nodding, "It is... I feel much cooler - yet exhausted..."

"Time for you to get some shut-eye, then," Matthew said, smiling before he remembered something. "Oh wait... you can't sleep..."

"I think I can right now," he replied, yawning once more and clinging to Matthew, "You're like a teddy bear, I can't sleep without you."

Blushing, Matthew replied sheepishly. "C-can we at least sleep on the bed... I don't think it's s-safe to sleep in water..."

Francis nodded, nibbling Matthew's arm tiredly and replying softly, "Sure... Just grab me a sweater to wear or something..."

"... Um, all right." _Why is he nibbling my arm?_ he asked himself before slowly getting out of the bath and grabbing a towel to dry himself off.

Francis dried himself off as well and then waited for Matthew to come back with said article of clothing so he could help him into bed.

Soon, he did come back, completely dressed and carrying one of his sweaters. "Here, you seem to like my clothes for some reason..." he muttered.

"It's because they smell like you..." Francis admitted, raising his arms in a princely way, as if expecting to be dressed for some odd reason.

Matthew just raised an eyebrow at him before grinning and throwing the sweatshirt at him. "Come on - you can put a shirt one by yourself," he told him before walking over to the bathtub and taking the drain out.

Yelping as it hit him in the face, he gave a huff and pulled it on, holding out his arms again and expecting to be picked up.

Matthew stuck his tongue out at him. "I'm pretty sure you can walk now."

Francis gave a pitiful whimper and stared up at him, with large, quivering puppy dog eyes, "Pwease?"

Matthew stared at him, his heart breaking. He sighed; "I swear, you know just how to manipulate me..." He muttered as he picked him up again.

Francis smiled and hugged him, teasing back, "Oui, oui I do~"

Matthew laughed as he carried him to the bed, pretending to slip as he threw him on the bed. "Whoops!"

He whined as he landed on the bed, pouting up at him and replying, "Be careful! I'm delicate!"

Matthew just chuckled. "Right, my - ah!" he yelled as he actually _did_ trip this time, landing on top of Francis for the second time that day.

Francis blushed tomato red once again, feeling Matthew's weight on top of him and realizing that he himself wasn't fully clothed... But he did like feeling Matthew's weight pressing against his own, though~

"Sorry," Matthew muttered, blushing as he picked himself up. "I really am such a klutz..." He giggled slightly just before his arm slipped on the bedsheet and he landed back on top of him _again_, only this time... the fall caused an accidental kiss.

Francis' eyes widened as he felt Matthew's soft lips press against his own, and the weight of the taller boy wrap around him... Almost like a warm, comforting embrace~

Lashes fluttering shut happily, he kissed back, unknowing of how Matthew felt. Which was horrified, in case you were wondering.

He couldn't believe that he had done that!-! Granted, he _had_ tripped, but still... Why did he have to be so klutsy!? He didn't want to kiss Francis... not right now, not like this... But, he did have to admit, he was a nice kisser...

He quickly separated, though, blushing profusely and refusing to meet his gaze. "I-I'm sorry..." He quickly got off the bed, walking over to the window and opening it, sticking his head out and sighing.

Francis touched a hand to his mouth, sighing happily. Even though it was on accident, it made him feel... Exhilarated to be kissed by his one true love...

Taking a deep breath, Matthew walked back to the bed, still refusing to meet the other's eyes. "W-well... anyways, you need to sleep..." he muttered, hoping desperately that Francis wouldn't mention their... k-kiss.

Francis smiled dreamily and nodded, scooting in and snuggling more under the covers, "Oui, but, um Matthew, I-I-"

"Are exhausted, right?" Matthew interrupted, laughing nervously. "I know, that's why you should fall right asleep!-!"

Francis giggled and smiled, nodding before wrapping his arms around Matthew's waist, snuggling close to him.

Matthew blushed, placing his hands on his shoulders to push him away, but hesitating as he remembered how dejected the boy always looked when he did that... Sighing, he crawled into the bed as well, but he still refused to look at him.

"So... Warm..." Francis murmured as he began to drift to sleep, his lips brushing Matthew's shoulder. Which caused the boy to shiver again; the touch produced almost the same effect as his curl being pulled...

Francis didn't notice as he mumbled, before falling asleep, "I... Love... You, Matthew..."

Fortunately (or, perhaps, unfortunately), Matthew had heard him, and he just blushed more as he closed his eyes.

This was all happening way too fast...

~!~!~!~

Matthew hadn't gotten a wink of sleep laying next to Francis like that. This was mostly thanks to his mind constantly bringing attention to the fact that they had just kissed... but his slight insomnia also had to do with the bells that he kept hearing ring. Every time it rang to tell a student, "Class has ended!" or "Class has begun!" he felt a little pang in his stomach. This was supposed to have been his first school day... He should really be attending the classes - he wasn't the one who was sick after all! And he couldn't afford to get behind with his scholarship!

Not to mention, it seemed Francis was a talkative _and _restless sleeper.

"Non... I couldn't put a hedgehog in... Arthur's pants anyways..." Francis mumbled, shifting slightly.

… Frankly, Matthew didn't even want to know why he was saying that string of words.

"Oui... Matthew... Is handsome..." Francis mumbled, shivering and then coughing.

Matthew blushed slightly, but still smiled. He wondered who he was telling that to in his dream world... Although his coughing did worry him a bit; just how had he contracted a cold, anyways?

Francis then rolled over a bit, so that his sleeping face could be better seen. Matthew noticed that he seemed overheated again...

"Hold on," he whispered before swiftly crawling out of bed to grab an ice pack. As he did so, he noticed Kumi and frowned before reaching down and petting him. "I'm sorry... You'll have to wait for that seal fat, I'm afraid..."

The bear just blinked up at him before shrugging and falling down on his stomach, causing Matthew to laugh. "I'm surrounded by exhausted people!"

He walked back to Francis, ice pack in hand, before gently placing it on his head. "Feel better, will you?" he muttered, looking at him. He sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "I'll probably wake him up if I climb in again..." He decided to go sit by the window instead, looking outside and smiling at the sight of the pretty courtyard. And, as much as he hated to admit it, the roses did look very beautiful... Even if he did know their dastardly, horrifying secret...

Suddenly, Matthew felt something slithering up his leg, causing him to jump and look down: it was a Lilly.

"... What?" he muttered before picking it up and inspecting the white flower. "Where did you come from?"

His eyes widened as the flower just started slithering along his hand like a snake. Making a sound of surprise, he threw the flower down on the ground and stared at it, breathing heavily. _Does..._ he thought to himself, his heart beating double time, _Does Francis feed _every_ flower like that, and not just the roses!? It shouldn't be slithering about!_

The Lilly moved back up onto his shoulder and then just rested there, its "tail," flickering on his lap.

Matthew sighed as he looked at it. "You're acting like you're my pet..." he trailed off before raising a brow curiously and saying half heartedly, "Roll over?"

The Lilly slithered down and did so, rolling over and then resting at his feet.

Matthew just stared at the fauna with wide eyes now, not understanding why it was doing this. And listening to him! How did that even work!? Plants didn't have ears!-! "I wish i could ask you what you were doing here..." he muttered, stepping down and kneeling down to look at it closer. "But I can't talk to flowers like Francis..."

The flower pointed at Francis, and then made a heart with the end of its tail.

Blushing slightly, Matthew just laughed. "Oh, no, we're not..." he trailed off before twiddling with his fingers. "Well, I suppose he loves me for some reason..."

The flower nodded, then pointing at his heart, as if to tell him that's what Francis liked.

"... Well," he started, not really knowing what to say. It then occurred to him that he should probably be just a little more freaked out by the prospect of talking with a flower...

Said talking flora wrapped around his wrist, trying to drag him over to Francis."Thanks, I guess...?"

The flower nodded, pointing at his heart again.

Tilting his head slightly, Matthew asked, "What is it with everyone here and hearts?" rather frustratedly. "I swear, it's all about what their "heart" tells them here..."

The flower rolled his bloom, as if to roll its eyes, and whacked him with its roots.

Pouting, Matthew stood up and walked back to the bed to sit down. "Fine, what else do you want to tell me?" he whispered.

The flower dragged him back over and then pointed at Francis' lips.

"... You've got to be kidding me," he muttered, staring at the cheeky flower. "There's no way I'm doing that..."

The flower tightened its grip and pointed again.

Matthew shook his head. "I'm not kissing him, Lily, so you can just forget it!-!"

The Lilly dropped and then fell off him, slithering under the bed.

Matthew raised a brow before getting down on the floor and looking under the bed. "Why did you hide down here...?"

Suddenly he felt tiny paws on his hand, and he looked down to see a brown and white hedgehog glaring up at him.

"Oh, what?" Matthew asked defensively as he looked at him. "Why are _you_ mad at me!-!"

"Because you're not brave enough to kiss your true love!" the hedgehog hissed up at him, puffing its quills out.

Matthew stared at the animal in disbelief with his jaw dropping open. _It's... it's talking to me_, he thought before shaking his head and replying, "I - I don't like him like that..."

The hedgehog gave a "_Hmph!"_ and replied heatedly, "Then you're a cowardly hoser!"

Glaring at the hedgehog, he grabbed it by the flap of it's quills. "Who are you calling a cowardly hoser, you nosey animal!-!" He walked over to the window and set it down outside, closing the window definitively and sticking his tongue out at it.

The Hedgehog hissed and pawed at the window, glaring more. "Now you're even more of a hoser!"

"I bet you don't even know what that means!-!" Matthew hissed at him before turning away from the window with a huff.

"Do too! You're one of those Canadian thingies!" the hedgehog smirked.

Turning around and glaring coldly at the animal, Matthew just said, "Lucky guess."

The hedgehog nodded and then squeaked, "Let me back in, moose meat!"

"Why would I let you back in if you're insulting me all the time!?" Matthew almost yelled at him before covering his mouth and looking over at Francis. He still seemed to be sleeping peacefully... but he better stay quieter from that point on.

"Because I'm Arthur's animal assistant!" the hedgehog hissed, quills puffing out again, "Now let me in! I have news to tell you, hoser!"

Eye twitching, Matthew grudgingly let him back in. "Fine. But call me a hoser again and see where that gets you..."

The hedgehog stabbed at him with his quills, hissing and glaring angrily.

"Ow!" Matthew exclaimed, glaring at him again. "What the hell was that for!?"

the hedgehog snorted and replied, "For you being a hoser."

"Augh!" Matthew exclaimed before picking him up again. "That's it, message or not, you're much too rude to stay here!-!"

"Fine, I'll tell you, maple killer." The hedgehog rolled its eyes, squeaking, "Arthur is mad that you got hamburger head stuck with him in one room, and sent me to torture you."

"... Is that so,"' Matthew murmured, his eye twitching. He held a hand up to his head and closed his eyes, still feeling very angry. He supposed he could understand Arthur's annoyance with him... but he started it with laughing at him and Francis when they were stuck together! "Did he also send the flower?"

"No, Lilly just wanted to visit the prince because she likes him a lot, and I don't know where Usagi is..." the hedgehog trailed off, before puffing out its quills and announcing in a proud voice, "And my name is Ignacious!"

Matthew sighed and tried his best to smile at the audacious little animal. "It's... _nice_, to meet you... Who's Usagi?"

"Hamburger head and scary tall guy's rabbit. She's pretty nice," Ignacious replied, pawing his whiskers.

"Ah," Matthew said, nodding. He was a little surprised that Ivan and Alfred co-owned a rabbit... but he suppossed it wasn't too weird, considering Alfred had been drinking some of the Russian's vodka two days ago. "So... now what?" Matthew asked himself as he sighed, looking at Ignacious.

The rude rodent stuck its nose in the air and replied, "Insulting you and waiting for our prince to wake up."

Matthew raised a brow. "_Our_ prince...?" he asked slowly.

"Or princess, whatever he calls himself now," Ignacious sniffed, glaring up at Matthew, "I know you're just a knave."

Matthew glared at him, about to snap back, but then he just sighed and sat down on the floor cross-legged, propping his head up with his hands and elbows. "Are you normally this rude, or did Arthur tell you to act like this to annoy me?"

"Half and half, you tosser." Ignacious replied, curling up on Matthew's lap.

Matthew smiled at him then. "Aw, tired?"

"N-No!" the hedgehog snapped back, flustered and then yawning, "I'm wide awake!"

Matthew chuckled and patted its head, carefully avoiding any quills. "It's all right, you know - everyone else around me seems tired. You can go to sleep, if you want."

"Fine, but I would have even it you didn't offer!" Ignacious retorted, closing his milky blue eyes.

Matthew chuckled at him before picking him up and laying him on the bed next to Francis, smiling at them both. "Sweet dreams, you two."

Ignacious nuzzled against Francis and nodded, then resting still and falling asleep.

Matthew sighed before looking under the bed for Lily again. "Come out, little planty..." he murmured, feeling around for her. "Why don't you sleep next to the prince and a rude little hedgehog?"

The flower shyly wrapped around his hand, nuzzling his wrist and holding on.

Matthew smiled warmly at it and kissed one of it's petals before holding his hand out next to Francis' head.

The flower made a sucking motion with its bloom on Matthew's wrist before slithering and wrapping around the prince's head.

Matthew laughed at the sight, holding a hand up to his chin in thought before walking to where Kumi was still lying on the floor. "Come join the sleeping party, why don't you?" he asked with a giggle as he picked him up and set him down on the bed next to Ignacious. "It's official," he said to himself as he looked at them all. "I must have some sort of sleeping potion on me or something..."

The bear nuzzled against him, laying on his lap and then closing its eyes. Matthew just giggled at him before yawning himself and laying down next to all of the sleeping forms. "I suppose a nap couldn't hurt..." he mumbled to himself as he wrapped his arms around his favorite polar bear and hugged him close to his chest.

~!~!~!~

Eventually Matthew had found sleep, the sleeping forms of flora and fauna being rather contagious that way.

When Matthew awoke though, he realized Francis wasn't beside him, and was instead sitting on the window seal, strumming a hand harp absent mindedly.

The boy just blinked up at him and smiled, relaxing into the covers more as he listened to Francis play such beautiful music. _If he sees I'm awake, he might stop playing..._ he thought to himself as the pure notes rang through his ears.

Francis smiled, humming along to his playing as the other animals stirred, making Matthew smile even more at him. He laughed a bit when he noticed Lily dancing gracefully along to the music, though; when did dancing flowers seem normal to him?

Ignacious rubbed his eyes and woke up, yawning and at the sight, Matthew reached forward and hugged him, muttering, "Did you have nice dreams?"

The hedgehog glared and twitched his whiskers, replying heatedly, "I guess! Why do you care!?"

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Because, I'm _trying_ to be nice to you..." He sat up and smiled at Francis, still hugging the angry hedgehog.

"Wanker..." The hedgehog mumbled, flattening his ears.

Matthew just rolled his eyes again before ignoring him and instead saying to Francis, "I didn't know you could play the harp as well."

Francis jumped in his spot, whipping around and blushing, replying, "Y-Oui, I can..."

Chuckling, Matthew stood up and walked over to him. "Don't be embarrassed," he told him with a smile. "I've always loved music... keep playing, please?"

Francis grinned, nodding and continued to play, humming softly and closing his eyes.

Matthew exhaled through his nose contentedly before setting Ignacious down on the floor. "Why don't you go back to Arthur, now?" he asked gently, already expecting whatever hateful thing he'd reply with.

"But he's ignoring me..." The hedgehog said sadly, hiding his snout.

Matthew tilted his head. "Why is he doing that...?" he asked before chuckling a bit. "Is he too busy spending time with Alfred?"

"Yeah, hamburger head is taking all of his time!" Ignacious wailed, puffing out his quills.

"Oh, sorry..." Matthew said apologetically. "Well, I guess you can stay here, then... or maybe I can talk to him about it." He rubbed the top of his head, "Speaking as a pet owner, we really should spend more time with our animals..."

"That's easy for you to say!" Ignacious scoffed, "Our Prince has to tend to every animal!"

"He does?" Matthew asked, looking at Francis curiously.

"I do," Francis chimed in, opening his eyes and plucking the strings, "Every single one."

"... Why?" Matthew asked, tilting his head. Don't tell him this was more curse stuff...

"Because I love animals," Francis explained, smiling cheerily, "And they like to talk to me."

"Oh," Matthew replied, smiling. "That's very nice of you, then!" He chuckled. "I love animals, too... just not rude ones." He stuck his tongue out at Ignacious then, who just glared at him and puffed out his quills even more.

Francis giggled and replied tenderly, "He's just sensitive~"

"Just like his owner?" Matthew joined in, laughing.

The blonde nodded, receiving a hiss in reply.

Matthew giggled and then yawned, asking lazily, "What time is it, anyways?"

Francis gazed outside the window and replied with a slight yawn, "3:24."

Sighing, Matthew said, "We should probably ask Arthur and Alfred what our homework was, then..."

Francis grinned and then pulled out a bundle of work, "Already have it done. Pretty sure I did this twenty years ago..."

Matthew stared up at him with wide eyes. "Wait... You've been attending this school for... That's right, you can't leave!" he exclaimed, standing up suddenly and pacing as he thought. "So... you've been in the rosters for 300 years?! But how do you manage that! Don't people get suspicious if you don't graduate!?"

Francis shrugged and tossed Matthew the bundle, "Not sure, but hey, I have everything done in advance this year."

Matthew smiled before he started laughing, untying the bundle. "Well, since I don't want to cheat, I'll just look at what the assignment was."

Francis smirked and sang, "If you want it, take it."

Sticking his tongue out, the Canadian did just that. "Do you have any blank pieces of paper? Since our handwriting is very different..." he said as he looked at Francis' fancy, loopy, bubbly scrawl.

He smiled and brought him some parchment and a quill with an ink well.

Matthew blinked at the materials before grabbing them. "I've never actually used one of these..."

Francis cocked his head and asked, "You don't use quill?"

"Nope," Matthew replied, shaking his head. "I use pen or pencil."

Francis stared, eyes wide, and then went over and put his hands on Matthew's shoulders, asking him in a serious tone of voice, "Are you a peasant, Matthieu?"

"... Nooo..." he replied, creasing his eyebrows together. "Everyone in the 21st century uses pen or pencil..."

Francis continued to stare, disbelieving as he replied, "You surely jest."

Matthew giggled. "No, I'm serious. You've never used a pen before?"

Francis shook his head, holding a quill possessively to himself and replied stilly, "Non... I am royalty, therefore, I use a quill."

Matthew laughed before crawling over to his bag and taking a pen out. "Pen's are really handy, though," he tried to tell him as he came back with one and held it up like a salesman. "The ink comes inside them, so you don't have to worry about carrying your ink or having it dry out or anything. Plus, you can cap it or click it so that ink doesn't get on your clothes!"

Francis continued to stare at him, then eyed the pen evilly and hissed, "It looks like a demon stick!"

Matthew sighed before grabbing Francis' hand and placing the pen in his palm, closing his fingers around the sleek surface. "Come on, just try it! For me?" Matthew blinked up at him in an attempt to "manipulate him" like the other so often did, but he was pretty sure he wasn't doing it right...

Francis felt his face heat up as he looked away for a moment, then sighed and replied, "Alright, mon amour, I'll try this... This..." His voice became quieter and he trailed off, blushing more.

"Great!' Matthew grinned before handing him the parchment. "Here, just write anything you want - a poem, maybe? - and I'll get started on my homework." He crawled over to his bag to grab another pen before setting to work, flashing one last smile at the progressing centurion.

Francis smiled softly and blushed more, playing with a strand of his hair and beginning to write on the piece of parchment, hiding it from Matthew. He didn't notice as Lilly crawled up him and rested on his shoulder, gazing down and watching him write what looked like... A love poem!

Meanwhile, Matthew was working on his history homework, biting the edge of his pen as he concentrated. He was probably going to need to go to the library for some of this information... Although he could probably just ask Francis, he realized with a laugh.

Gazing up from his parchment, still blushing, the blonde asked in a shy voice, "Do you need help?"

"Hm?" Matthew asked, looking up. "Oh, yeah. Maybe..."

Francis smiled and gazed over at his paper, reading the multiple choice question and then answering, "It would be C if the question was correct."

"Ah, thanks," Matthew replied, scribbling the answer and smiling at him. "So, how are you liking pens?"

Giving a small pout, the blonde replied, trying to hide back behind his paper and keep Matthew from seeing it, "It isn't fluffy enough."

Chuckling, Matthew just went back to work. "I'm going to modernize you yet, Francis. Just you wait."

"Being modern is bland, though!" the centurion objected, pouting more and looking uneased, "I don't want to be like the color brown, which is bland!"

Matthew laughed. "Trust me, turning modern won't make you brown, okay?" He stuck his tongue out playfully with a wink before adding, "You're much too special for that."

Face flushing at his compliments, Francis looked away, giggling in a slightly love-struck manner, and then writing more down on his parchment.

Matthew laughed at him as he went back to his homework, sighing slightly. He knew that most people didn't really like homework, but he didn't see what was so bad about it. He had always had a thirst for new knowledge, and he loved being taught things! It was so... well, _cool _for him to know a new piece of information, or know how to do a new skill. He didn't really see why everyone couldn't think of it that way.

Francis gazed down at his poem, causing his hands to quiver at what he wrote. He couldn't read this to Matthew! It would probably freak him out to know that he had wrote almost everything he loved about the other boy on this one sheet, right in front of him!  
But he couldn't help it... He looked so handsome, bent over his work and sticking his tongue out slightly in concentration. And the way the his muscles moved when he was writing down on his piece of parchment... Just too handsome~

Completely unaware of the way he was being gawked at, Matthew soon finished his history homework and sighed in relief. "Well, on to English," he muttered to himself before digging in his bag for his play book.

Francis felt as if he were about to drool, (he knew it was improper to gawk, but... But let him have his moment, ok?!) as he watched Matthew bend down to lift his book up. Francis just loved the way the sunlight accented the other boy's hay-blonde hair, and the way his tendrils of curls bounced as he moved about.

"Oh, do you want to read it with me?" Matthew interrupted his staring with a cheery smile. "I know you've probably read it a bajillion times, but I always like reading plays with someone else."

Francis gave a slightly startled look and then nodded, wiping the corner of his mouth were he did, in fact, start to drool and nodded, "I-I would love to, mon amour!"

"Great! We have to study the prologue, right?" Matthew said, humming to himself as he flipped to the front.

"Well... May we read the balcony scene... Just for fun?" the blonde asked nervously, fiddling with his hair and gazing at him shyly, "That way we can act off one another?"

Matthew's eyes shined; the balcony scene was one of his favorites! "Sure! Why not read the most famous scene, right?" He chuckled as he pointed to the prologue. "This is pretty short anyways, what scene is the balcony one, though? Which act? I can't remember, exactly."

"Act two, scene two, mon amour~" Francis replied, eyes shining as well as he sighed happily, "I'll be Juliet~"

"All right," Matthew replied absently as he flipped to the page. He really did have a thing for old literature, even if he hadn't read a _lot _of it in his lifetime. And he almost found it amusing that Francis wanted to play the girl, but he did say that he felt more "feminine" today. "I'll start," he spoke up before clearing his throat and quoting in his best "Old English" voice, "'He jests at scars that never felt a wound. But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she: Be not her maid, since she is envious; Her vestal livery is but sick and green and none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were! She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that? Her eye discourses; I will answer it. I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing and think it were not night. See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek!"

Francis felt his face burning up, as a part of him pretended that it was Matthew saying these incredibly poetic and romantic compliments to him instead of Romeo to Juliet. Oh, if only...

Clearing his own throat, he replied simply, "Ay me!"

Matthew pretended to look pained as he continued the next set of lines, "She speaks. O, speak again, bright angel! For thou art as glorious to this night, being o'er my head, as is a wingèd messenger of heaven unto the white, upturnèd, wondering eyes of mortals that fall back to gaze on him when he bestrides the lazy-puffing clouds and sails upon the bosom of the air."

Francis gave him a desperate look, calling to him and clutching his hand together, "O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."

Matthew pretended to be startled by what Francis was saying, holding a hand over his mouth and saying to the side, "Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"

Francis continued with a gulp, closing his eyes and reciting by memory. He felt as though he were pledging to the forces that bound him to this stony threshold that he would do whatever it took to be with Matthew,"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee Take all myself."

Matthew stood up straight before smiling at Francis and gesturing to him. "I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized. Henceforth I never will be Romeo."

Jolted out of his thoughts, Francis demanded worryingly, feeling a blush rise to his face, "What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night, So stumblest on my counsel?"

Matthew frowned slightly, speaking as if he was trying to appeal to "Juliet." "By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am. My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself Because it is an enemy to thee. Had I it written, I would tear the word."

Acting surprised, Francis' eyes widened as he replied slowly, "My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words Of that tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound. Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?"

Matthew bowed his head. "Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike."

Slightly impressed, Francis inquired, getting up and standing so he was gazing up into Matthew's eyes, "How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, And the place death, considering who thou art, If any of my kinsmen find thee here."

Smiling to himself as he looked up, Matthew gestured to the sky. "With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls, For stony limits cannot hold love out, And what love can do, that dares love attempt. Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me."

Francis gave a worried frown and pointed out, "If they do see thee they will murder thee."

"Alack," Matthew said, holding his hands over his heart, "there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords. Look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity."

Anxiousness riding his tone, Francis insisted yet again as his blush grew, "I would not for the world they saw thee here."

Matthew smiled weakly as he said, "I have night's cloak to hide me from their eyes, And but thou love me, let them find me here. My life were better ended by their hate Than death proroguèd, wanting of thy love."

Francis looked away for a moment as he asked, tugging at the end of his bangs shyly, "By whose direction found'st thou out this place?"

"By love, that first did prompt me to inquire," Matthew said as if he were admitting it, managing to make himself blush slightly. "He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes. I am no pilot. Yet, wert thou as far As that vast shore washed with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise."

Seeing the blush on Matthew's face, Francis smiled softly and admitted, "Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face,

"Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek

"For that which thou hast heard me speak tonight.

"Fain would I dwell on form. Fain, fain deny

"What I have spoke. But farewell compliment!

"Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say "ay," Firmly gazing into Matthew's eyes, he took the other's hands and said in a serious tone, "And I will take thy word. Yet if thou swear'st

"Thou mayst prove false. At lovers' perjuries,

"They say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,

"If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully.

"Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,

"I'll frown and be perverse and say thee nay,

"So thou wilt woo. But else, not for the world.

"In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond," taking a breath, he continued, "And therefore "thou mayst think my 'havior light.

"But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true

"Than those that have more coying to be strange.

"I should have been more strange, I must confess,

"But that thou overheard'st, ere I was 'ware,

"My true love's passion. Therefore pardon me,

"And not impute this yielding to light love,

"Which the dark night hath so discovered."

"Lady,"Matthew started before getting down on one knee and smiling up at him as if he were lovestruck, "by yonder blessèd moon I vow, That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops—"

Francis gave a pained look and interupted, "O, swear not by the moon, th' inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circle orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable." he finished, frowning.

Matthew gave a confused look. "What shall I swear by?" he asked.

Francis gave a small smile and explained, "Do not swear at all. Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, Which is the god of my idolatry, And I'll believe thee."

Matthew smiled back at him, holding back a laugh. "If my heart's dear love—"

Francis interrupted him once more, giving a stern look, "Well, do not swear. Although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract tonight. It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden, Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be Ere one can say "It lightens." Sweet, good night. This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. Good night, good night! As sweet repose and rest Come to thy heart as that within my breast." His features softening, Francis blushed more as he finished his decree.

Blushing a bit more as Matthew realized what he'd be saying next, he asked, "O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?"

Rasing a brow, Francis inquired with a growing smile, "What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?"

Biting his lip, Matthew replied with vigour even as his blush increased, Th' exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine."

Francis gave a small, ladylike laugh and pointed out, "I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, And yet I would it were to give again."

Matthew stared at Francis in surprise. "Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?"

Feeling as though he were glowing, Francis explained softly, squeezing Matthew's hands, "But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep. The more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite-" pretending to hear the nurse offstage, Francis' eyes widened as he added quickly, "I hear some noise within. Dear love, adieu.— Anon, good Nurse!—Sweet Montague, be true. Stay but a little. I will come again.

Matthew pretended to huff. "O blessèd, blessèd night! I am afeard, Being in night, all this is but a dream, Too flattering sweet to be substantial."

Francis paused, then laughed the same polite laugh again, "Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed. If that thy bent of love be honorable, Thy purpose marriage, send me word tomorrow By one that I'll procure to come to thee Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite, And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay And follow thee my lord throughout the world."

Pretending to be called again, Francis closed quickly, closing the space between he and Matthew, "I come, anon.—But if thou mean'st not well, I do beseech thee—"

Sighing, Francis called out, "By and by, I come." turning to Matthew, he leaned up and kissed his cheek, "— To cease thy strife and leave me to my grief. Tomorrow will I send."

Matthew blushed after Francis kissed him, and, breaking character, asked, "Heh... m-maybe we should work on our other homework, now..."

Feeling as though his heart were breaking slightly, Francis nodded with a disappointed look, gazing up into Matthew's eyes still.

Clearing his throat, Matthew walked over to his bag, taking deep breaths to get all of the romantic words and emotions out of his head. "Are you good at math?" he asked absently as he took out his math book and a pencil.

"I'm fairly decent..." Francis replied, looking away and frowning slightly.

Matthew chuckled. "Good, 'cause it's not my best subject..."

Francis nodded absently, sitting beside Matthew and sighing slightly, "Just tell me which problems."

~!~!~!~

**Author's Note, TheGuardianKnux: I love getting back on schedual and uploading all this. XD You would not believe how many hours it takes to write all of this with another person…**


	9. Dueling and Disciplin

Matthew walked down the school's hallways nervously beside Francis, biting his lip and playing with this thumbs. He was off to start his first sword-training session with Toris, as it seemed Arthur had already planned his training schedule. He was to practice everyday after school for at least an hour, and at least three hours on the weekends. Matthew was happy with the schedule, at least, since it allowed him plenty of time for homework. The actual training, on the other hand... Well, he was plenty stressed for it.

Francis smiled gracefully as he walked beside him, wearing an old kimono that he had explained was given to him years ago. His hair was tied back in a bun with chopsticks through it, as he hid his hands inside his sleeves, his skirts and the end of his long bow trailing behind him.

"Matthieu, I think you are worrying too much," the gender-neutral looking blonde comforted, giving a sympathetic look. "I'm sure Toris will go easy on you."

"You're probably right..." he replied airily, as if he hadn't quite heard him.

Scrunching up his nose in annoyance, Francis commented clippedly, "Matthieu, look me in the eye."

Cringing slightly, he did as he was told and looked up into Francis' clear blue eyes, though he found they were clouded slightly with annoyance... "What is it?" he asked almost impatiently, immediately biting his tongue for how he sounded. It was all this anxiousness getting to him!-!

He watched as annoyance turned to a hard stare as Francis replied tensely, "You're too hard on yourself." moving a hand, he placed said sleeve-covered hand upon Matthew's shoulder and explained, "If you had had a chance to identify your somatotype, you'd realize that you have enough muscle and strength, your build being slightly thicker than mine, to push your opponents away if they were to get too close."

Sighing, Matthew looked down at the floor. "But... I'm just not that aggressive..."

Rolling his eyes, Francis scoffed, "Oh please, aggressive opponents are usually too consumed in their bloodlust to think like intelligent human beings and plan an attack strategy!"

"What if I'm the type to freeze up under pressure!" Matthew yelled his insecurities. "What if even if I know exactly what to do going in, my brain decides to go completely blank and I just stand there like a dead fish!"

"So long as you don't choke to death on your own vomit," Francis commented, smiling slightly, "Which I have seen, then you'll be fine."

"... Now I might actually do that," Matthew mumbled, paling as his stomach started to knot up.

"You do realize that they probably overdosed on stimulants, non?" Francis inquired, sighing and continuing to walk.

Matthew followed after him robotically. "One can also vomit from nervousness," he commented, frowning.

"Matthieu, maybe one day you'll learn how to spit in death's face like I do," Francis noted, giving a careless wave of the hand, "It's rather relaxing."

With that sentence, Matthew was partially snapped out of his trance. Raising a brow at him, he asked incredulously, "_You_ laugh in death's face?"

"Metephorically speaking, oui, oui I do," Francis replied with a Cheshire smile, his loose hanging bangs bouncing as he walked, "I cannot die, so why should I fear death?"

Matthew frowned, remembering a time when Francis had been covered in blood and sobbing, wishing that he would die... "I think it's almost better if you fear death," he said quietly, staring ahead. "Because then you'll want to keep living."

Francis' smile tensed slightly as he argued, "It has been three hundreds years - maybe more. If anything," he paused, stopping abruptly, "Maybe this has all been Purgatory. And I have been damned to never die..." Eyes looking distant, he then shut his eyes and smiled a fake, plastic smile, "Oh well, if that is my fate, so be it."

Frowning, but not knowing what he could say to him, he just shook his head. "If anything, this wouldn't be Purgatory..." he looked Francis straight in the eyes before saying coldly, "Wouldn't this be hell?"

Stiffened, Francis felt as if his throat had dried up and tightened in a vice-like grip. Opening his eyes, he gazed brokenly back at Matthew with an icy smile, "Well, that is a less positive way of looking at things. But oui, _you," _the pronoun stabbed Matthew, almost like a blade, "Are rather blunt today, are you _not_?"

Grinding his teeth, Matthew looked forward again. "I just feel like you don't care one way or the other..." He laughed cruelly before holding his hands on either side. "Life? Death? What's the difference? If you don't care if you live or die - if you _want_ to die - then what's even the point in making me fight, Francis?" He turned back to him, frowning, pain filling his eyes. "What's the point in fighting for you if you've already given up?"

Quickly, faster than lightening, Matthew's eyes widened as he felt the blunt side of a blade pressed against his neck. Francis, the one holding said knife, whispered coldly, sending shivers down Matthew's spine, "Oh non, I haven't given up. If I can live this long," he pressed the blade against Matthew's skin a bit more, continuing, "I can surely keep going. I am simply stating that after experiencing various ways to kill myself, death doesn't seem that serious to me any more."

Matthew was completely frozen, his mind whirling as he tried to think of a way to get the knife away from his neck. Closing his eyes, he said squeakily, "So if I died, it wouldn't be that serious?"

"If you died?" Francis repeated, pondering his words, "Matthew, you won't die. I would sooner kill anyone who tried to kill you then even think of you dying."

"Now apply that to yourself," Matthew said, moving one of his legs slightly. "I don't even want to think of you dying, Francis. So start thinking about death more seriously..." He quickly ducked down on the side away from the blade before tripping Francis and rolling away from him, holding a hand up to his neck and sighing in relief.

Like a reflex, Francis threw the knifed at the wall, causing it to stay stuck in the wood as he landed with his hands stretched out. Smirking, he complimented in the same cold tone, "Bien Matthieu, you are thinking strategically!"

Grinding his teeth, Matthew turned to him with a glare. "Is that the only reason you held a freaking knife to my throat?" Closing his eyes as tears came to them he muttered, "I hate you..." before standing up and fast-walking down the hall, wanting to get this stupid lesson over with so that Francis could live a life he _didn't even care about_.

Francis stared, mind shutting down as he watched him leave, said words playing in his mind over and over again. Till he began to laugh hysterically, pushing himself off the floor and running to fetch the knife from the wall. Taking it out, he quickly stabbed himself in the heart. Knowing it would do nothing but cause him to black out for a few minutes, he collapsed to the ground and let the blood pool around his body, a twisted smile on his lips as he thought about what Matthew had said to him.

Matthew, having heard the thump on the ground, clenched his fists as he stomped back to where he was, finding that he wasn't even surprised by what Francis had done. "That's what I'm talking about!" he yelled, a few stray tears making their way to the ground. "Do you ever think for one second about how others might feel by your actions!? Taking your life is the easy and coward's way out!"

"My lungs are simply going to fill up with blood, and I'll pass out for a few minutes before getting back up again," Francis narrated, rolling a lazy eye up at him, "It's almost poetic, really. Have you not read the end of Romeo and Juliet? Its absolutely beautiful," he cracked a slightly sadistic grin, "After she finds her love dead, she probably thought he hated her too. Maybe he hated her so much, that he let himself die at the hands of a simple potion. So she stabbed herself as well," he began laughing again, "What a way to waste your only chance to die on. She should have known hanging would have been much quicker."

"... And you try to stay positive?" Matthew muttered, his fists clenched so tight that his knuckles were turning white. "I thought you knew love when you saw it, eh? I think Juliet knew exactly why he had killed himself, and out of love she took her own life..." he laughed again, holding a hand up to his head. "That was pretty stupid of her, though - you can always find someone new to love... but still, Juliet wouldn't even have considered taking her life if Romeo hadn't pretended to." He knelt down and took the knife out of Francis' body, staring at it detestably. "Maybe he should have thought how he would feel if he had discovered the person he loved lying dead."

"Have you ever thought she may have given her heart to him?" Francis challenged, staring up at Matthew, "No matter how long you live, you only have one heart. Once you give it fully to someone, you can't take it back."

"They only knew each other for three days!-!" Matthew yelled, throwing the weapon on the floor away from them. "That is not enough to fall in love with someone! You want to talk about lust? _There you have it_."

"Lust! _Lust?!_" Francis yelled back, voice heated and stabbing at Matthew like an iron rod, "It isn't lust when you stay with that person, do everything you possibly can for that person, and vow to protect that person, no matter what the cost!"

Matthew laughed, shaking his head slightly. "They were teenagers... how many times in a lifetime does someone promise something and then change their mind later on? If Romeo and Juliet had managed to finally be together, who's to say they wouldn't get bored with each other after awhile? After all, the danger and exciting "forbidden" aspect of their relationship would have vanished..." He looked up before continuing, "When anyone says they've fallen in love so quickly, I just can't believe them, because while they may have fallen for their outward personality, what happens if they discover something within them that they don't like? What if, one day, Romeo realized that he and Juliet were not meant to be... then, their love would fall apart, and they'd break up, and move on, and fall for someone else all over again..."

Francis stated up at him, lost for words and slightly unable to speak as blood filled his lungs slowly. After a few seconds, he found his voice. It was a quiet, broken-sounding voice as he said defeatedly, "Then the given heart would starve and wither away, leaving a cold and empty stone behind. A one-sided love cannot feed on... Itself..." his eyes went out of focus as his voice began to fade, "For... -Ever..."

Matthew looked down at him, the angry clouds that had been filling his mind clearing as he saw Francis slip into unconsciousness. Kneeling down and gently placing shaking fingers on his cheek, Matthew just let his tears fall.

Why the hell had he gotten into such a debate with him? Why couldn't he have just well-enough alone...! He caused Francis to _stab himself_ for crying out loud!-! He should have stopped when _that _happened!

Sighing defeatedly, Matthew picked him up, deciding not to care about the blood making it's way into his clothing anymore since it seemed if he was going to be involved with all of this, he should get used to the sight of the thick, sticky, crimson liquid...

"You're still an idiot for stabbing yourself," Matthew mumbled as he continued walking to the courtyard. He knew that Francis was right in that he couldn't die, and he hoped Toris might know of a way to help the blood out of his lungs. "And you're right, a one-sided love can't last... so it makes you wonder why people fall in love in the first place."

"The lonelier-you get," the blonde coughed, answering him softly, "The more you crave f-for someone to w-want to love you... S-Somehow..."

Looking down at him pitifully, Matthew just whispered, "Somehow...?"

"Oui-S-Somehow... I'm not t-that picky." Francis replied, coughing again.

Matthew sighed and shook his head, not wanting to get into yet another argument about how wanting someone to love him _somehow_ was hardly the way to go about it... "How do I heal you up?" he asked quietly instead, hoping he wouldn't blackout before he could tell him.

"Apologize." Francis answered stubbornly.

Matthew creased his eyebrows and looked down at him. "Apologize...?" he asked before his eyes lit with a fire. "Are you telling me you could've healed yourself at any time...?"

"Non, I just want an apology or some way to know if you actually loathe me or not." Francis answered, bitter tears slipping out of his eyes.

Matthew's eyes widened as he blushed slightly, cursing himself. "Did I really say that...?" he asked himself more than the other. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean that..."

"Hate is not a light word to use." Francis spat, crying more anger-filled tears.

Matthew bit his tongue as he hissed, "_Neither is death - but you don't get that!_"

"Correction, knave," Francis snarled with a surprising force, "I didn't wish death upon you! _You_ used _hate_ to refer to _me_!"

Matthew stopped suddenly, shaking as he used his short bangs to conceal his eyes, though tears still travelled down his cheeks and onto his shirt. "You still don't get it..." he murmured, his voice void of anything other than pure, utter, helplessness. "You still don't understand..." He looked into Francis' eyes, his vision turning blurry as he choked out, "I've already had to see too much death, I do not want to see another one!" He closed his eyes again, cringing. "You might as well have used death against me by using it against yourself - that's just as bad if not worse!" He shook his head, his voice picking up volume. "You said yourself that you'd hate it if anyone even thought of killing me, it's the same for me towards you and everyone!"

Eyes widening, Francis stared and said nothing. Matthew... Cared about him... _That much?_ That wishing death upon himself was as if doing the same to him?

"You... Care about me... That much?" Francis asked shakily, lifting himself up gently and kissing Matthew's tears away.

Blushing, Matthew set his jaw. "And why do you sound so surprised...?" He closed his eyes, finding that his tears being kissed away actually felt kind of nice.

"Because of how great a price that is." Francis whispered softly between each kiss.

Matthew chuckled, smiling slightly. "If I didn't care about you, why would I be carrying you? Why would I immediately try and calm you down whenever you get depressed? And why would I even be walking to this sword-training in the first place? Use your brain..."

Francis felt a small smile inch its way into his face as he replied quietly, "Good point."

Matthew laughed at himself before commenting. "Maybe everyone's right back at home - I care too much."

"And that is important in a person. Caring too little isn't what a human should be doing, oui?" The blonde pointed out, wrapping his arms around Matthew's neck and resting his head on the boy's shoulder.

Matthew just sighed, laying his head on top of his as he kept walking. "Can you just tell me how to stop the bleeding now?" He decided there was no point in agreeing or disagreeing with his statement, especially since he didn't even know where he himself stood on the subject of caring too much or too little. Besides, sometimes he couldn't even explain _why_ he cared. He just... did. And, for some reason, when it came to Francis, that "caring for no reason" part of him seemed to multiply ten times.

"I've already stopped bleeding. The wound has healed, mon amour." Francis chuckled, nuzzling Matthew's neck and kissing it lightly.

Matthew shivered from the kiss, the hair on the back of his neck standing up as he blushed. His neck was another sensitive area... "G-good..." he mumbled. "How and when did that happen?"

"My cells accelerate and patch my body up, simply leaving scars behind. See this one on my neck?" he pointed out, shifting slightly, "That was from the time I beheaded myself."

Matthew felt his blood run cold as he heard the distinctive sound of two sharp blades hitting each other, simultaneously seeing Francis' head come off of his body. His eyes rolling into the back of his head, the body falling limply to the floor, the head rolling about in that basket as blood covered everything near it...

Shaking now, he replied, "L-lovely..."

"And as for how I reattached that - without any split hairs mind you because my hair is much too important for that," Francis explained, yawning slightly, "I felt around headless for a while till I found it again. Rather uncomfortable to be honest."

Matthew's vision started to get a color-shifting picture frame around it that started to slowly move in as he imagined a headless body searching for... for his h-head...

He promptly fell to the ground, Francis falling out and rolling away from him as he simply laid on the stone floor, shaking slightly as his mind continued to torment him.

Francis gasped and then, realizing what he had done, quickly pounced on Matthew, hugging him close and stroking his face gently, "Now now, mon amour, let your mind wander into better places."

Still shaking, Matthew looked up at Francis, his eyes wandering to the scar around his neck... from a b-beheading...

Shifting, Francis' collar of his kimono covered his scar, and he held Matthew closer and began to hum an old lullaby.

Breathing deeply, Matthew gave his dignity a ticket to kalamazoo as he curled up into Francis' lap and listened to the song, his trembling slowly descending as he did.

"Do not fret, my pet," Francis whispered, almost motherly, as he bent down and kissed Matthew's forehead, "I'll keep your bad thoughts away."

"Y-you're the one who caused them..." he mumbled before laughing at himself again. "Oh yes, I'm definitely your duelist, huh?"

Cringing, Francis stroked Matthew's cheek with a sleeve covered hand and replied sheepishly, "Oui... And I apologize, but yes, you are my prince."

Taking another deep breath, he sat up and looked into Francis' eyes before letting it out slowly. "Some prince for making you stab yourself. And then cowering after the mere thought of... Oh, God..." he closed his eyes painfully tight, trying to block out the guillotine from his mind.

"That was my over-emotionalness and self pity," Francis argued quickly, kissing Matthew's cheeks in a soothing manner, "And its alright to have fears."

"Not so _many_," Matthew said, shaking his head before standing up, wobbling slightly as he did so.

Francis helped steady him, holding him around his waist firmly and helping Matthew walk, "Matthieu, I'm afraid of computers. I think that's far more ridiculous."

Matthew burst into laughter, leaning against Francis as he became even more unsteady from the happy contractions. "R-right... I forgot about th-that!"

Francis began to laugh as well, his odd, memberable laugh sounding out, "Ohonhonhonhon! See? You are more brave than I am in that regard!"

Matthew shook his head, chuckling. "It's just because I grew up around computers." He laughed at him, "Your fear is just considered irrational."

Smiling at him, he kissed Matthew's cheek again and replied, "Merci, then, merci."

Blushing again, Matthew just smiled back. "Thanks..."

Coming up to the training area, Matthew heard the sounds of metal clanging as he turned his head to see what was happening.

It was Toris and... Ivan! The two were fighting one another, Toris with an actual sword and Ivan with a... Lead... Pipe...

"That's odd..." Matthew said as he stood himself up straight, looking at the two. "The way Arthur talked to Toris, I never expected them to be fighting each other..."

Francis chuckled and explained simply, "They are only sparring. I assume Toris is showing Ivan what he'll be teaching you physically."

"Oh," Matthew replied, nodding. He tensed up with fear before turning to him and asking, "Wait, why would he be teaching Ivan what he'll be teaching me!?"

"Because Toris is more comfortable instructing, " Francis told him, giving an awkward smile, "While Ivan... Is more comfortable displaying..."

"You mean..." Matthew pieced together, looking back at them, "I'm going to be fighting Ivan, and not Toris...?"

Francis nodded, giving a weak smile, "Pretty much."

Matthew continued to stare out in the courtyard for two seconds before turning around and taking a step away. "Well, this was fun -"

Francis yanked his curl, and replied with an evil-looking smirk, "Non. You will stay and fight him, _my prince._"

Biting his tongue to stop from moaning again as he blushed and turned around, his insides writhing heatedly, he yelled at him, "Why would you _do_ that!-!" He quickly pushed Francis away from him, covering his curl up and staring at him untrustingly.

"So that you would stay, Matvej!" Ivan answered cheerfully, Matthew backing up into his chest, "Because I want to fight you, _best friend._"

Matthew squeaked as he bumped into him, paling as he turned around and looked up at the tall, scary boy. "... B-best friend...?"

Ivan stared down at him unsettlingly and nodded, "Da. You're one of my best friends now!" Picking Francis up, he placed the smaller boy on his shoulders and then picked up Matthew and held him under one arm, walking over towards the training ground, "And that's why I want to train you!"

"I'm thrilled..." Matthew mumbled, staring desperately at Toris. Surely he would understand what he was feeling?

Francis giggled and hugged Ivan's head, resting his own on top of the larger boy's one and thanked graciously, "Thank you, Ivan~"

Ivan smiled, patting Francis' head and replying, "You're welcome!"

Matthew just silently whimpered. If he had been feeling any small amount of anticipation for this sword training beforehand, it was now completely gone... Thoughts of the much larger boy crushing his bones with one sweep of his iron weapon filled his mind, making him shake slightly.

Francis looked down, letting his sleeve fall down and stroke Matthew's head lightly, "Don't worry, mon amour, Ivan promised he wouldn't bruise you."

"Really?" Matthew said as he looked up at them both, shifting under his arm a little to get a better view.

Ivan smiled down at him with closed eyes till he opened them, making them look dilated and tense as he replied happily, "Da, really, Matvej~"

Matthew stared into his eyes, biting his lip. Eventually, he sighed. "All right then, let's get fighting..."

~!~!~!~

Matthew took a deep breath as he put himself into the "First position" that Toris had taught him, his lightweight training sword held out in front of him. Luckily, the swordsman had shown him a few basic maneuvers before pinning him up against Ivan, but he was still shaking as he looked into the other boy's large, soulless eyes...

Ivan tightened his hold on his pipe, grinning as he swung at Matthew, feeling his inside churn with glee. He hadn't gotten to fight fresh meat in a long time~

"Whenever you're ready, Matthew," Toris told his new pupil with a kind smile. "I'll instruct you along the way."

Taking another deep breath, the boy simply replied, "All right..."

Ivan chuckled, running and swinging again, aiming for Matthew's head.

Matthew squeaked as he quickly ducked and rolled away from the blunt weapon, his heart racing as his mind started whirring with one thought and one thought only: _how to get him to let go of the pipe_.

Ivan watched and slammed the pipe down on the ground, trying to crush Matthew's body with it.

Francis watched from the sidelines, sitting upon a plush cushion and sipping some tea with Arthur.

"The poor lad looks terrified out of his mind..." Arthur commented as he took a long sip of his tea.

Francis gave a slightly guilty smile, resting his head on Arthur's knee and sipping his tea as well. "Oui... But I have faith he'll do well."

On the makeshift battlefield, Matthew was currently just dodging Ivan's attacks. He knew he'd have to make an offensive move sometime, though - he couldn't drain his energy like this for long...

Ivan gave a slight snarl as he swung, getting frustrated that Matthew was dodging his attacks so well. He didn't want to _play _with his prey, _he wanted to devour it._

Matthew could sense the negative energy rising inside Ivan, starting to freak out as the Russian got more and more aggressive each time he missed the smaller boy. If this kept up, Ivan might forget his promise about not bruising him...

Taking a deep breath, Matthew steeled himself and prepared for an attack, deciding to strike Ivan when he would be at his most vulnerable - after stabbing his pipe to the ground. As the taller boy's strength was plunged into the ground and he was more focused on balancing, Matthew lunged forward and whacked at his hand, hoping to have him drop the weapon.

Ivan swore and did just that, dropping his pipe and backing up, holding his now-stinging hand against his chest.

Thinking quickly, Matthew dived for the pipe, holding it close to his chest as he rolled up into a squatting position and turned around to face his opponent, breathing heavily.

Toris, Arthur, and Francis cheered as he did so. Running up to him, Toris said excitedly, "Congratulations! Your first match is done!"

"... F-first match?" he echoed, looking down at the pipe in his hands with disbelief. He had... won? Against _Ivan?!_"I actually..."

"Da, comrade, you _won_," Ivan replied coldly, his voice dropping an octave.

Matthew felt like he had shrunk several feet as he stared up at him, paling. "S-sorry!" he felt compelled to say.

Ivan glared before smiling cheerfully and hugging Matthew, replying with a giggle, "I'm so proud!"

Matthew blinked as he felt himself being hugged. _Hugged_. He had thought he was about to be _murdered_ from the look he had been giving him!-! He just never knew what to expect with Ivan...

Quickly, he felt slender arms snake around his waist and lips being pressed against his neck as Francis whispered lowly, "I'm impressed~"

Shivering, Matthew laughed nervously, replying, "Th-thanks..."

Said lips moved up to his jaw as he felt a teasing hand hover right above his curl, "Should I congratulate you better~?"

Squeaking and blushing immensely now, Matthew wormed his way out of both Ivan and Francis' holds by slipping right between them and climbing under their legs. "N-no!-! That's quite all right!"

Both pouting, Francis quickly turned and grasped said curl, whining slightly, "But Matthieu~"

"Ah...!" Matthew exclaimed, everything flashing white as heat traveled through his body by means of a drawn-out shiver. He fell to the ground, curling up and moaning, blushing and wishing the ground would open up and swallow him right about now.

Francis smirked and giggled mischievously, his arms surrounding Matthew as he leaned in and kissed his neck softly and whispered, "Should I~?"

Whining, Matthew muttered pathetically, "Pl-please, stop..."

Francis giggled till he heard Arthur's voice and gave a small groan, glaring up at the Brit.

"Francis! Get off of him right now!-!" he yelled, clenching his fists. "He's obviously very uncomfortable, you insensitive twat!"

"Oh please, Arthur~" Francis scoffed, rolling his eyes and holding Matthew tightly, "He enjoys it~"

"He _told_ you to _stop!_" Arthur yelled, grabbing him by the back of his kimono and pulling him up.

"Get your perverted hands off of me!" Francis growled heatedly, squirming and trying to get out of Arthur's hold.

"_Matthew should be the one telling you that!-!-!" _Arthur hissed in his ear before dropping him down three feet away from the poor, shivering boy. "What happened to respect!"

"I wanted his attention and touch!" Francis admitted angrily, snipping at Arthur as he got up and tackle-hugged the Brit, "I feel needy!"

"Th-then..." Matthew started, sitting up and staring at Francis forlornly. "You could have just said so...! You didn't have to pull my curl!" Tears came to his eyes as he covered his face, saying quietly. "I told you how it made me feel... I can't believe you'd do that to me! Make me feel so... dirty..."

Francis, realizing what he had done wasn't a good thing, immediately got off of Arthur and apologized frantically, "M-Mon amour! I'm s-sorry! I forgot you didn't l-like that!"

"How could _anyone_ like that!-! Matthew yelled, wiping at his eyes. "It feels horrible!"

"I thought i-it was a way people showed affection..." Francis mumbled, staring at the ground as his own curl drooped down sadly.

Sniffling, Matthew just curled up again, burying his head in his arms. "That's not the type of affection you want..."

Francis sniffled and then turned, ready to run when Arthur grabbed him roughly and stopped him, taking his other hand and grasping Francis by his own curl. "Maybe you need a reminder of how it feels, frog!"

Francis stared at him and then pleaded quickly, "A-Arthur! Please, you wouldn't dare-"

"Considering everything you just put Matthew through?" Arthur asked him with raised brow. "Nice try." He pulled Francis' curl _hard _before stepping away from him quickly, already getting ready to run if need be.

Francis stopped, face becoming horribly flushed as his knees buckled and he collapsed upon the ground, making a loud noise and shivering violently.

Matthew looked up in surprise, eyes widening as a small smile appeared on his face. "His curl, too...?" he said to no one in particular.

He turned to Arthur when he heard him chuckle. "Oh yes, unbelievably so," he informed the Canadian. "If it even gets touched the wrong way, actually..."

Francis gave Arthur a weak glare, still shivering as he sneezed and yelled at him, "T-That hurt!"

"Bloody deserved it," Arthur muttered, sighing to himself. "it's not so fun when the roles are reversed, is it?"

Francis glared more and muttered, "Nag."

"What was that!?" Arthur yelled, ready to get into an angry rant when he noticed Matthew crawling over to Francis with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Francis didn't seem to notice as he called out, "Brow bastard!"

"Neh, Francis~?" Matthew's "innocent" voice whispered, "Do _you_ like it~?" he asked sweetly before wrapping his index finger around his blonde curl and pulling lightly.

Francis' face heated up more as he shook violently, making an even louder sound as he panted, out of breath and begged weakly, "M-Matthieu... P-please-"

"Hm? Speak up, _mon amour_," he said mockingly before tugging it in the other direction.

Francis squealed as tears came out of his eyes slightly and he gagged, replying in an even weaker voice, "M-Matthieu-"

"Just apologize already!" Matthew yelled frustratedly as he unwrapped his finger and simply pulled on the single hair.

Letting out another loud noise, Francis closed his eyes and replied, even weaker, "I-I'm, I'm-"

"_Speak louder!_" Matthew ordered with another tug.

"Sorry!" Francis gasped out, tears sliding down his cheeks.

Huffing, Matthew released his hair and sat back, running a hand through his own locks. "Thank you... That's all I wanted."

"Hoser..." Francis mumbled, then freezing as he felt Matthew's rage coming back.

"What did you just call me...?" he asked icily as he reached a hand out for a certain strand of Francis' silky hair.

"Hoser!" Francis squeaked, covering his mouth as he realized what he had just said.

"Augh!" Matthew screamed, pulling it roughly. "I bet you don't know what that means either!-!"

Francis seized up and whimpered, feeling another heat flash as he begged, "P-Please stop!"

Hearing the words that he had said himself moments ago come out of Francis' mouth, Matthew finally snapped out of his rage as he realized just what he was doing to the boy. His eyes widened and he immediately let go of him, crawling backwards as he apologized. "I - I'm so sorry...! I just... r-really don't like..." He groaned. "I'm sorry."

Francis blinked weakly and curled up, hugging the rest of his hair and whispering, "It's ok, I deserved it."

Chuckling slightly, Matthew replied, "Yeah, you did..." He stood up and stretched then, yawning slightly before he remembered that he still had more sword training to do. "Oh, right, should we go again...?" he trailed off as he turned to Ivan and Toris.

Suddenly, Matthew heard the sound of needles whizzing past his face and Arthur yelping as the sharp objects pinned him to a tree.

Francis smirked and got up, still shaking as he uncovered his hand, displaying the needles held between each gap of his fingers.

"I am going to make you pay by acupuncture, _mon ami~" _Francis purred.

"Oh please," Arthur scoffed, "As if thin needles could keep me stuck here." Rolling his eyes, he tried to pull his arm sleeve out of the needles, but there were too many of them for him to simply pull it out. Paling, Arthur turned back to the Francis, his eyes going wide.

Francis gave a slasher smile and began to close in on the Brit, not noticing Matthew sneaking up behind him with a frown.

"I promise it will hurt a lot~" Francis sang as he exposed needles being held in his other hand as well.

He didn't notice when one was swiped until he felt a very sharp point in the middle of his back. Yelping, he turned around to see Matthew holding one of his acupuncture needles and looking at him disappointedly. "Why must you torture him? He was only helping me."

Francis gave a pout and tried to move, only to collapse as he argued, "And taking advantage of moi!"

"You took advantage of me, first!" Matthew yelled, frowning again. He walked over to Arthur and started taking the needles out of him. "Sorry about that, Arthur."

He just smiled at Matthew. "It's not your fault. You should really get back to sword-training now, though."

Laughing nervously, Matthew just mumbled, "Right..."

"Oh, don't give me that," Arthur said as he wiggled his now-free hand. "You had a great first run. Just keep that up!"

Francis gave a bigger pout and said sarcastically, "Oui, a wonderful job getting ready to molest me, Matthieu. I am so proud."

Blushing, Matthew turned around hurriedly. "What are you going on about!? I wasn't going to do that!-!"

Rolling his eyes, Francis replied in disbelief, "You were enjoying pulling my curl an awful lot, my prince."

Bubbling with rage, Matthew threw his acupuncture needles at him, narrowly missing his head. "Don't project your own feelings on to me!-!-!"

Francis seized up and replied back heatedly, "Non! Then why did you pull it over five times?!"

"Because you made me so _angry!_" he said, clenching his fists. "I just wanted a little revenge!"

Snorting, Francis replied mockingly, "How mature~"

"Says the man who doesn't _stop _when he's told and was about to stick Arthur with needles!?"

"What?!" Francis objected, sticking out his tongue childishly, "I haven't gotten to do target practice in a while!"

Shaking his head, Matthew turned to Ivan and Toris. "Should we get back to practicing?"

Toris nodded sheepishly, turning to Arthur and asking shyly, "I know he tried to stab you and all, but could you-"

"Of course, of course," Arthur said, rolling his eyes. "Leave it up to the mature one to carry the little brat off the field."

"Brow bastard!" Francis retorted, unable to move anything except his eyes.

Arthur's eye twitched in anger before he closed his eyes and smirked, chuckling darkly before muttering, "I wonder if you could be picked up purely by your curl..."

Francis paled and blushed slightly, arguing heatedly, "Non! You sick, perverted brow bastard!"

Scowling, Arthur walked over and picked him up by the armpits, dragging him off. "Whoops, I seem to be getting your kimono all dirty, how dreadful."

"This is worth more than your life!" Francis spat at him, trying to kick his legs and finding he could not.

Arthur laughed at the pathetic attempt. "Wow, Matthew got you good, didn't he?" he asked before smiling at said boy. "Good show!"

Biting his lip, Matthew looked at Francis. "Thanks, I guess...?" he said, even though he was starting to worry that the Frenchman couldn't move any part of his body. He couldn't worry about it too much, however, when Ivan started swinging his pipe at him again. Squeaking, Matthew barely avoided it as he got ready for his second battle.

"Stupid pressure points..." Francis grumbled, glaring up at Arthur, "When I can move again, I am going to puncture you in places Alfred wishes he could see!"

"_Why are you always so grimy!?_" Arthur yelled at him before dropping him near a large tree. He glared at the man, blushing just a little.

Francis smirked and added, "Although, there wouldn't be much to look at to be quite honest."

Arthur started shaking in anger, but he didn't really find it very honorable to start maiming an opponent who couldn't move, so he settled for yelling, "At least I'm not an anemic, pale ninny!"

Francis gave a haughty laugh and replied, "At least I don't grow and not show like you, you closeted twat!"

Blushing profusely at the dig and completely furious now, Arthur just screamed in frustration before stalking off. "That's it! I can't deal with such a perverted frog any longer! And for the record, _i'm just fine!_"

Francis smirked and gave a perverted laugh, yelling back, "Go! Run into the arms of your mon amour as you share steamy kisses over perverted books and soul-stealing screens while he wears a skirt!"

Freezing up, a single shiver tracing through him, Arthur slowly turned around to glare at Francis. "At least I _have_ a "mon amour"!"

Francis' smirk dropped as he gave a frozen look, now frowning as tears welled up in his eyes. Wishing he could move his sleeve and hide his face, a few of his tears slipped out as he became silent.

Immediately feeling horrible, Arthur cursed himself before running over and kneeling down. "Fr-Francis, I'm sorry - I didn't mean that..."

Francis rolled his eye up to look at Arthur and gave a whimper, "That hurt, Arthur..."

Arthur felt his stomach twist up as he ran a hand through his hair, looking away. "I know... I'm sorry..."

Francis sniffled some more and asked with a quivering expression, "Can you hug me then?"

Sighing and smiling at him weakly, he said "Of course," before sitting him up and wrapping his arms around him. "And don't worry... I'm sure you'll have a love sooner or later."

Gazing into Arthur's eyes, Francis asked shyly, in an uncharacteristically quiet voice as Arthur held him close, "Really?"

"Of course," Arthur assured, smiling at him encouragingly. "As much as I can't stand you sometimes, I'll admit, you do have a certain charm about you. But if you ever bring that up _ever_ I won't hesitate to pummel you into next week."

Francis giggled slightly and raised a brow, asking, "What kind of charm, mon ami~?"

Sighing, Arthur thought for a second before saying, "Well... You're kind. To everyone except me. And you are pretty smart, though you don't act like it, and - okay - even _I'll _admit you're handsome, even if you do use too much product for my tastes. Happy?"

Francis gave him a warm, elegant smile and thanked genty, "Merci, mon ami, though you are wrong about too much product. I would never," he gives a serious look, intense and dark, "Use hairspray."

"... May I ask why?" Arthur asked, raising a brow.

"It chokes your hair, for God sakes!" Francis replied, brows knitted together, "And makes hair hard and brittle. The only products I use are shampoo, conditioner, and cream to make my frizzies stay down!" He finished with a pout, "The air is too humid for my taste."

Arthur laughed a little, shaking his head and about to say something when he heard a pained cry coming from the interior courtyard. Turning his head to look, he saw that, somehow, Ivan managed to sit on top of Matthew. "Oh dear..." Arthur mumbled, frowning.

Glaring, Francis yelled angrily, "Ivan! Get off of Matthieu, _now."_

Ivan, giggling as he crushed Matthew under him, stopped smiling and gave a pout. Nodding dejectedly, like a dog who had been scolded by their owner, he rolled off of the Canadian and grabbed his pipe, gazing guiltily at the ground.

Groaning, Matthew's vision swam as he felt numb all over. "Talk about heavy..." he whispered. He couldn't even look up when he saw Arthur standing above him, creasing his eyebrows in worry.

"Matthew, are you all right? Can you stand?"

"I don't think so..."

"And if I catch you doing that again, you'll be severely punished!" Francis finished, his rant of berating Ivan coming to a close as the other boy whimpered, head bowed.

"Here, let me help you," Arthur said as he picked up the limp boy by his armpits as well. Chuckling slightly, he commented, "Aren't you and Francis a pair now?"

Matthew managed to laugh a bit, though the effort made his chest ache. "Yeah, I guess we are."

Ivan walked pass them, sulking as he went back over to Toris and chanting darkly under his breath.

Arthur turned to Toris as he carried Matthew by Francis. "Perhaps we should stop the training for today...? Although you are the master here, Toris."

Toris gave a sympathetic smile, nodding and replying, "It's alright, Arthur. I would s-say that Matthew deserves his rest." He then bowed to Matthew and complimented, "I am impressed by how fast you are learning!"

Beaming, Matthew replied, "Thanks...!" He did have to say, fighting like that was pretty invigorating... And after he won the first one, he felt a revived confidence in himself. He couldn't even _remember_ the last time he felt confident about himself for _anything_, and then there he was going into the second battle proud and tall, even as he just mainly dodged. He didn't know he could actually be good in combat... but he supposed that's what you could accomplish if you put your mind to something!

He giggled as he was set by Francis, feeling incredibly happy with himself. "That went better than I thought. Even if my chest feels like it's broken."

Francis smiled proudly at him, replying, "Well, even if it might be, I'm proud of your progress as well, mon amour~"

Matthew turned his head to him, suddenly feeling much better as he smiled brightly. "Thanks!"

Francis nodded and wiggled an arm. Finding he could at least move those, he hugged Matthew and replied sweetly, "You're always welcome~"

Chuckling, Matthew laid his head on Francis' shoulder since he _did _feel like resting now. "Sorry if this isn't comfy."

Francis blushed slightly and smiled, replying in a dreamy voice, "N-not at all, mon amour~"

"Good," Matthew yawned, before nuzzling into his neck and closing his eyes, the dull pain in his chest almost forcing him to sleep.

Laughing to himself, Arthur muttered, "I should go get Alfred to see this."

Francis' curl formed into a heart and he nodded to Arthur, then replying to Matthew sweetly, "Go ahead and sleep. I won't mind~"

Yawning again, Matthew replied dreamily, "I know you won't..."

With that, Arthur nodded to himself before taking out his cell phone and taking a quick picture of the two before sending it to Alfred, saying only one word in the body text: "Courtyard."

Francis blushed more, looking away sheepishly and whispering, "You're so cruel to me, Matthieu~"

Arthur's phone vibrate as Alfred texted back:

_Wot dude, leik, 4 realz?! Brt!_

Chuckling, Arthur looked at Francis and Matthew warmly before kneeling down and whispering teasingly nto Francis' ear, "Never mind, I suppose you do have a mon amour~"

Blushing darkly, Francis hid one eye behind his hair and whispered back, stuttering, "Y-You truly believe?"

Arthur laughed jovially before saying, "Maybe in a while, yes."

Blushing more, Francis bit back a squeal of excitement and nodded, smiling.

"I can..." Matthew mumbled, eyes fluttering open, "Hear you, you kno..." he trailed off before sleep practically collided into him full force. He didn't even have enough strength to leave his head on Francis' shoulder, instead having it fall into Francis' lap.

Blushing even more, Francis felt his insides quiver as he looked down at Matthew lovingly, gently using a slender finger to trace his facial features carefully. He felt smooth, spotless skin, making him sigh in content and tremble slightly.

Matthew made a small, pleased sound before smiling slightly. "Lo..." he mumbled before his face relaxed back into it's normal position.

Tensing up in excitement, Francis whispered urgently, "Lo, lo what?!"

Unfortunately for him, Matthew just stayed in a still sleep, his mouth not even twitching in an unspoken response.

Francis gave a small sigh and pouted, stroking Matthew's neck and holding him close as he looked up at Arthur sadly.

Arthur returned his sad look as he shrugged. "Sorry, old friend..."

Pouting more, Francis grumbled under his breath and asked, "Did you contact Alfred?"

"Yes, I'm surprised he's not here yet -"

"HEY DUDES!" Alfred yelled, bringing his camera and a waggon full of more cameras behind him as he grinned, flashing them his dazzling metal smile and making them both notice that Alfred's head seemed almost encased in an odd array of orthodontic headgear that looked like a reverse bear trap.

"Alfred, what happened to you?" Arthur asked, frowning at him.

"My orthodontist said I'd have to wear the "bear trap of shame," since my teeth are going kind of out of wack," he replied with a heavy lisp, shrugging and smiling cheerily, "Don't worry! This sort of thing has happened in the past, babe!"

"... Still quite a stroke of bad luck..." Arthur mumbled, his stomach starting to twist as he remembered his blasted spell...

"Dude, don't worry," Alfred placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and smiled warmly, "I have jaw problems, remember? I've been wearing these for eight years after all..."

Laughing weakly, Arthur replied, "Yes, of course..." He then pointed to Francis, "Oh, and there are those two, by the way."

Eyes brightening, Alfred simply groped Arthur since his headgear made kissing almost impossible, and replied excitedly, "Thank ya, baby cakes!"

Blushing, Arthur was resorted to a stuttering mess. "I - I told you not to d-do that in p-public..."

"But I can't help it!" Alfred replied sweetly, making a fish face, "You're like a tantalizing piece of candy I just want to lick every time I see you~"

Shivering, Arthur took a step away, laughing nervously with his hands out in front of him. "A-hahah, v-very funny, Arthur, I've always loved your sense of humor..."

Purring, Alfred licked his lips and stepped closer, whispering almost seductively, "That wasn't a joke~"

Arthur swore he felt steam coming out of his ears as he shivered and looked down. "J-just take your pictures already...!"

"Of what, sugar?" Alfred asked, raising a brow and backing Arthur up into a tree, leaning in and crooning a whisper, "You~?"

Shaking his head frantically as he imagined himself turning redder than Mars, Arthur exclaimed, "N-no...! Of - of your OTP, of course...! Th-that's why I texted you here in the first place!"

Alfred growled playfully, stroking Arthur's spine and replying, "You know, they're only one of my OTP's~"

Arching his back from Alfred's touch, he closed his eyes and whined pathetically, "A-Alfred, please, there are p-people here..."

Alfred smirked and stopped, leaning in and kissing Arthur's neck gently, trying not to cut him with his braces as he whispered, "Alright babe, I'll just take some pictures of USUK later~"

Blushing more, Arthur just slumped to the ground and clutched his stomach, shivering as he tried to control his frantic heartbeat. Looking down, he just muttered incoherently to himself before covering his face as Alfred's words fully sunk in.

"Or UKUS, I'm rather flexible like that~" Alfred added over his shoulder as he readied his camera with a suggestive smirk.

"Kn-knock it off, Ameri -!" Arthur yelled before covering his mouth and blushing more. "A-Alfred!-!" he corrected.

Alfred grinned widely and sang back, "No thanks, England~"

Arthur groaned as he just covered his face more, wishing that Alfred would at least not do these things to him in front of _Francis_. He could at least console himself with the fact that Matthew was currently sleeping, though...

Francis grinned and gave Arthur a wink, adding, "Oui~ You should listen to America and Big Brother France~"

"Shut up, just shut up, you wankers," Arthur said as he glared at them between his fingers.

Alfred laughed, snapping a picture of Arthur, then Francis and Matthew and replying mischievously, "Nah dude, y'know you like it!"  
"Oui, black sheep of Europe!" Francis added, snickering and watching Arthur's anguish with pure glee, like a child come Christmas morning.

Arthur stood up to properly glare at both of them, clenching his fists even as his face was still extremely red. "Since you both like torturing me so much, why don't you just take some France/America pictures, Alfred!"

Francis raised a brow and blushed lightly, sticking out his tongue and shaking his head while Alfred gave a disapproving look and deadpanned, "Dude, Francis wouldn't top me. Only I want you to do that to me."

". . ." Arthur didn't know what to say to that as he felt more heat rise to his face. "_Have you no shame!?_" he asked incredulously, staring at him.

"Not really, babe, not really." Alfred replied with a shrug, smirking and adding, "I ship UKUS like a monster to be perfectly honest, man."

Shivering again, Arthur yelled, "Keep this up and it's _never going to happen!_"

Alfred gave his "hero laugh," and replied, "AH-HAHAHAHAH! You can't resist," he gestured to himself with a suggestive grin and finished, "_This~_"

Arthur raised an eyebrow before turning around. "Oh really? I don't think you realize just how much self-restraint I have."

Alfred rolled his eyes and snickered, asking, "Ohhhh realllllly~?"

Arthur hesitated a little bit before saying, "Yes... really."

"You hesitated, love~" Alfred replied, in the sexiest British accent he could muster.

Biting his lip and trying not to shiver from how he sounded, Arthur replied hastily, "That's because I was imagining all of the ludicrous things you'd do to try and prove me wrong!"

Moving in closer, Alfred purred and continued in the same voice, his breath tickling Arthur's ear, "Oh really, _love_~?

Taking a shaky breath, Arthur replied, "Yes!" even as he could feel his knees start to wobble. He rued the day Alfred found out just how much he loved hearing his British accent...

Leaning in, Alfred kissed Arthur's cheek and crooned, his voice unchanging, "Shall we turn this separate energy into," his voice became even smoother, "_Kinetic energy~?_"

Blushing again from the innuendo, Arthur turned around and grabbed him by the collar. "How about I just turn _you _into kinetic energy!?" he yelled before pushing him away.

Breaking the sexy act, Alfred bursted out into a fit of "heroic" laughter and asked, "What?! You don't like my alchemy puns?!"

Eye-twitching, Arthur replied, "_No_. Just take your bloody pictures already before Matthew wakes up!-!"

Giving a small pout, Alfred smooched his cheek and went back to his picture taking while Francis resisted a smirk.

Sighing in relief, Arthur just looked at Matthew and smiled. "You have to admit he does look cute while sleeping."

Francis blushed and nodded, replying softly as he stroked Matthew's face gently, "Oui, he does..."

"Hm..." Matthew mumbled, shifting slightly. "Fran...cis."

Francis resisted the urge to squeal out of how adorable that sounded, and gazed down at the boy lovingly

Arthur chuckled and walked over to them, kneeling down and patting Matthew on the head. "I wonder what he's dreaming about?" he asked jokingly.

Francis blushed darkly, holding back his answer and instead looking away in embarrassment.

Arthur chuckled at him a bit more before muttering into the sleeping boy's ear, "Do you love Francis, Matthew?"

Matthew's curl twitched slightly as he nuzzled deeper into Francis. "N..." He started, but suddenly his curl formed into the shape of a heart and he fell silent.

Francis listened and his heartbeat quickened, especially when he saw Matthew's curl, causing him to make a small squeal.

Arthur laughed a bit before holding a hand up to his chin. "Hmm... Wasn't he about to say "No," though?"

"Can't you see, scone eater?!" Francis snapped slightly, giving an excited and urgent look, "He's having a conflict internally over moi!"

"... And you're happy about that?"

Francis nodded vigorously and smiled brightly, "Oui! Oui! That means he is considering!"

"I suppose you're right," Arthur agreed, sighing happily. "I wish you the best, old friend."

Francis smiled at him and reached up, kissing Arthur's cheek and replying softly, "Oui, the same for you."

Alfred's eye twitched as he put his camera down and gave Francis a seething glare.

Arthur, on the other hand, just blushed lightly and laughed. "Still not used to that."

"Neither am I," Alfred interjected, coming up between the two and glaring intensely, his fists wrapping and unwrapping.

Arthur blinked at him curiously. "Alfred, what's wrong?"

Alfred's face softened and he smiled at Arthur, picking the boy up and throwing him over his shoulder before taking the handle of the wagon and laughing as he added cheerily, "See you later, Francy!"

Francis stared, feeling a shiver run down his spine.

"_Alfred!_"' Arthur yelled, blushing and pounding on his back. "_You put me down right now!-!_"

"Nope~" Alfred sang happily, "I'm taking you away, because you. Are. _Mine._"

Arthur ground his teeth in anger before he realized something. "Wait... " he said before smirking, "Alfred, were you... jealous~?"

The brace faced sandy blonde stopped, body stiffening as he lied, replying shakily, "N-No."

Arthur smiled wide before struggling enough to get out of his grasp and look into his eyes. "You were, weren't you!" he said cheerily, rubbing their noses together. "That is so cute! I didn't think you'd be the jealous type, Alfy~"

Alfred gave a slightly horrified look, blushed darkly, and denied pathetically, "No! No! I'm not the jealous type!"

Chuckling, Arthur separated from him. "Oh, really?" He started walking backwards to Francis before saying, "Then you wouldn't mind if I got a goodbye hug from my friend before we left?"

Alfred's eyes darkened as the sun glared off his glasses, concealing his eyes and making him look unsettling.

Grinning, Arthur kneeled down and hugged Francis, whispering, "Help an enemy out, Francis?"

Francis looked over and smirked, whispering, "Shall I kiss you? Will that work?"

"Do you know how to do a stage kiss?" Arthur asked, smirking.

"Oui, I very much do~" Francis whispered back, his smirk becoming wider, "Shall I start or you?"

"You - I don't think he'll ever forgive me if I initiate it."

"Oui~ True true~" Francis whispered back, leaning in and initiating the stage kiss.

Alfred watched, feeling as if time had slowed down. Dropping his camera, his eyes widened as his heart felt as though it had stopped beating. His muscles tensed as one thought raced through his shattered feeling mind:

_That. Is. Mine. And I don't want anyone to touch what is mine._

Bolting, Alfred tackled Arthur into the ground with a feral growl, rage clear on his face and pupils dilated, like an animal.

Grinning, Arthur figured the quickest way to calm him down would be to grab his collar and pull him into a kiss, not caring when he hit himself pretty hard with Alfred's headgear.

Alfred felt his racing heart slow down as he relaxed, feeling calmer and less possessive as he kissed back sweetly. Arthur wasn't leaving... Artie was his... _His._

"Oh, Alfred..." Arthur mumbled, breathing against his lips and smiling into his eyes. "Don't you know there's nothing to worry about? As if I would ever be with _Francis_."

Alfred gave a whimper, then a whine as he replied unconfidently, "Yeah... But-but," a few tears fell out as he admitted heart-wrenchingly, "I'm the ugly nerd with the braces while Frenchie is the sexy, hot, beautiful foreign boy with the hair and the accent..." He looked down and choked a sob, "You're much too beautiful for me. I don't deserve you..."

Mouth open in disbelief, Arthur muttered, "Alfred..." He sat up, placing his hands on both of the boy's shoulders. "You're not ugly, you're smashing," he smiled kindly at him, "and cute. And you're pretty foreign to me." He chuckled before flicking part of his braces, "You're full of dorky charm - I'm pretty sure you're the only one who makes braces look good. And please, I'm hardly beautiful," He laughed a little at himself, "Have you seen my eyebrows? Honestly, I... I never thought you could like me, I'm the "proper, prude, and angry" British boy who'd rather read a book than ride a rollercoaster."

Alfred stared in similar disbelief before taking Arthur's hands and gazing at him lovingly, with also an unusually serious look, "_Hardly beautiful?_ Arthur! You're the fairest of creatures I have ever gazed my eyes upon!" He smiled, tears coming out of his eyes as he continued to describe his love, "Your eyes make the grassy moores of your homeland blow about in a jealous fit because their greenery will never, _ever_ compare to yours! And your hair, a sweeter golden yellow than honey or of rising wheat, has full attention of the shining sun that highlights it in the best way possible, wanting to compliment your natural, wonderfully unruly locks. And those brows," he swooned slightly, gazing at Arthur's eyebrows, "Those beautiful, thickset yet nicely accenting eyebrows. None can compare! Those eyebrows are wonderful! They show how natural and untampered you are, refusing to see tweezers, for knowing that their proud, bold-face appearance does not need tampering with!" Alfred leaned in slightly, gazing deeply into the eyes of his only love as his heart beated slowly, "Like thou's sweet cherry lips that compliment your waxy, moon-kissed skin. And of which isn't stretched, but caressing your slender, wondrous frame." Taking a deep breath, Alfred asked, smiling lovingly, "So tell me, Arthur Kirkland-_Jones_, how could you not be beautiful?"

Arthur's heart was beating a million miles an hour now, his face having gradually heated up with each new incredibly romantic complement Alfred told him. Giggling slightly, he wrapped his arms around his neck and wormed his head through Alfred's headgear to stay an inch away from his face. "Have you been reading Shakespeare...?"

Alfred nodded, stating with a hint of pride, "All of his work. Just for you, my one, true love."

Staring at him warmly, his eyes half-lidded, Arthur said quietly, "Could I ask for a better boyfriend?"

"Probably not," Alfred replied, grinning and then chuckling, "I've heard I'm as good as they come."

Arthur laughed before kissing him, his heart fluttering as he realized just how much Alfred loved him. And how he had never officially told him he felt the same way... "I love you, Alfred..." he whispered, staring into his eyes.

Realizing that fact, Alfred's jaw dropped as he stared in shock for a moment, before hugging Arthur tightly and sobbing happy tears, "A-Arthur!" he wailed happily, "I'll love you till the day I am made into worm's meat!"

Arthur let out a laugh. "Don't do that!" he said before gently stroking his fingertips down his back. "Then this wouldn't be as fun~"

Alfred shivered and gave a slight squeak, whispering in surprise, "I thought you didn't like public displays of affection!?"

Arthur sighed, grinning. "I know, but you just do something to me..." Blushing again, he said, "Besides, after a decree like that..." Instead of finishing his sentence, he leaned in and kissed him again, "I feel like doing anything~"

Alfred blushed darkly, seizing up slightly and melting in Arthur's hold, letting the English boy deepen the kiss and nibble his bottom lip gently.

All of Arthur's inhibitions melting away, he brought a hand up to gently trace around Alfred's neck, leaning into him more.

Alfred let him have complete control of the kiss, lashes fluttering shut as he smiled, not minding having Arthur stuck this close because of his head gear.

Watching, Francis giggled, almost like mad, as he squealed slightly and watched them lovingly. It was just too adorable~

Eventually though, he felt Matthew shift and move, yawning and beginning to wake up, causing Francis to blush slightly as he grinned sillily.

"Hm, what's going on?" Matthew mumbled as he rubbed his eyes and sat up, peering at Francis sleepily.

His eyes widened as Francis covered his mouth, giving him an intense look and whispering heatedly, "Matthieu! Shhhh! Don't ruin the moment!"

Matthew creased his eyebrows together as he glanced to the side, blushing immensely as he saw Arthur on top of Alfred and having a very... intense make-out session. He didn't even have enough surprise left to be questioning about Alfred's headgear as he let out a squeak.

Unfortunately, that squeak pierced Arthur's eardrums and made him stop kissing Alfred long enough to look up. Once he saw Matthew staring at him, completely awake and horribly red, he completely snapped out of his "love-state" and blushed profusely. Stuttering incoherently, he tried lifting his head only to bump into Alfred's hard headgear. "Ow! Oh, this stupid metal contraption!-!" he yelled before fighting his way out of it and crawling backwards. "M-Matthew, " he asked in a panic, laughing nervously, "how l-long have you been awake?!" He started to shake as he realized just what he had been doing _out in the open courtyard_. Not to mention that Matthew might have seen the whole thing...! Oh God, as if Francis wasn't bad enough - what had gotten into him!?

Francis smirked widely and covered his mouth with his billowing sleeve, giggling as he stared at the two and held Matthew close to his chest with his other arm.

Arthur stared at them as his heart sank. He soon groaned, horrified with himself, and curled up into a ball. "Kill me. Someone please kill me..."

Alfred frowned and sniffled, tears appearing in his eyes as he asked in a childlike voice, "A-Artie... Did I do a bad job?"

Stiffening, Arthur felt heat appear all over his body. He curled up more before saying quietly, "N-no, you did splendidly..."

Alfred grinned widely before picking up Arthur's ball like form and holding him close, rocking him back and forth gently and humming.

Matthew watched them for a minute before turning to Francis. "How... did that happen?" he asked, knowing that Arthur was not one to even want to kiss in front of others...

Francis gave a loving sigh and pecked Matthew's cheek and whispered, "Alfred gave him a lovely amount of compliments~"

Matthew smiled before giggling a bit. "I guess that would do it, eh?"

Francis nodded, eyes sparkling as he agreed, "Oui, oui~ It would melt me into a pool of melted butter if someone did the same for me~"

Laughing a bit, Matthew smiled at him. "I'm sure someone will, someday."

Francis' smile faltered, but he quickly covered it with his sleeve and nodded, blushing slightly.

Matthew looked at him oddly before turning back to Arthur, who was still being rocked by Alfred but was at least out of his ball shape now.

"That was humiliating..." Arthur mumbled into Alfred's chest, gripping his shirt tightly.

Alfred smiled gently down at him and soothed him. "It's alright, love," he replied, using his British accent, "Don't pay any bleedin' attention to them. It's just you and I. Haven't you _learnt_ that?"

"That's what got me _into_ this mess, you idiot!-!" Arthur yelled, lifting his head up and glaring at him slightly. "Why can't you ever say those things when we're in private...? Must you always make a spectacle of me!"

Alfred's smile faltered as he replied softly, unconfidence creeping into his voice, "I-I just wanted to tell you how much I l-loved you so I could p-prove it..." His lip quivered as tears spilled out, "I-I'm sorry I'm just a horrible boyfriend!"

Arthur stared at him with wide-eyes, dread filling his gut. Why did he always say things he didn't mean!? "No! Alfred, I didn't mean...!" he started before stepping down and hugging him. "You're a great boyfriend! I was just being silly - of course you'd want to p-prove it..." He blushed slightly, looking down disappointedly at himself. "I'm sorry I can't be more open..."

Alfred calmed down, rubbing his eyes and nodded, "Oh... Alright then," his cowlick wiggled as he leaned in and replied calmly, "It's alright, love, I understand." He helped Arthur up and asked cheerily, "Do you want to go somewhere private?"

Blushing a bit more, Arthur smiled sheepishly as he said, "Y-yes... I think I'd like that very much."

Alfred bowed and offered a hand, using a posh British accent as he asked politely, "May I guide you, my incredible British gentleman?"

Chuckling slightly, Arthur took his hand, smiling when he felt butterflies appear in his stomach. "You may," he replied before kissing him on the cheek. "And I promise, I'll try and get used to being more... public..."

Alfred grinned, accepting his kiss, and nodded, "Alright! I promise I'll be more conservative in public till you're ready, lad."

"Thank you," Arthur said gratefully before taking a step forward. "Now, let's go develop some pictures."

Alfred grinned cheekily and took his hand tightly, guiding Arthur and his wagon away from Francis and Matthew.

"Well," Matthew said once they were out of earshot, "they certainly seem happy together."

Francis gave a longing look towards the retreating couple and sighed, almost sadly, and nodded. "Oui~ Very happy."

Chuckling, Matthew grabbed Francis' hand and started walking forward. "Well, come on - I'm pretty tired still, and ready for bed."

Francis didn't tear his eyes off of Arthur and Alfred, nodding while his heart ached and he replied, "Oui, that sounds like a good idea."

Matthew frowned slightly, sensing Francis' sadness and sighing. The blonde really did crave attention, didn't he? And "l'amour" as he would say...

_One day, Francis_, Matthew said to himself as he led the boy to their room. _One day you'll have that, too. Just you wait. _

~!~!~!~

Exiting the bathroom, wearing another one of Matthew's sweaters that went to his knees, Francis gave a relieved sigh as he ran a hand through his silky locks. He enjoyed feeling clean of dried blood and dirt, and enjoyed it even more as he gazed at Matthew, who was waiting for him on their bed.

Yawning, Matthew asked him, "Finally ready...?"

Pouting, Francis stuck out his tongue and replied, "Oui! And it wasn't that long! It was just a mineral scrub to keep my skin smooth and clear~"

Matthew chuckled slightly before crawling under the covers. "Okay, okay, whatever you say."

Francis smiled softly, stepping over and slipping under the covers as well, pressing close to Matthew just like normal, and sighing calmly as he tried to hold down his blush.

Matthew pawed at the sweater that was on Francis, shaking his head amusedly. "Seriously, I'm going to run out of clothes twice as fast..."

Francis giggled, gazing into his eyes and replying innocently, "But your clothing smells like what I dreamed Canada smelt like; fresh air, moose meat, pine needles and maple syrup!"

Matthew laughed. "Yeah, that's pretty much Canada in a nutshell." He giggled before he looked back at Francis' arm, one of the veins just poking out beyond the sweater's sleeve. He then looked down at Francis hands and noticed that his slender fingers were covered in scars, some fresh, and some old and slightly healed.

"Your hands," Matthew mumbled before reaching over and tracing the scars gently, feeling every bump of the coarse, hardened skin.

Francis trembled and blushed, not expecting Matthew to be touching him in such a close, personal way. Feeling his throat tighten, he asked hoarsely, "O-Oui?"

Matthew just continued to stare at his hands, fascinated by it for some odd reason. Maybe it was because he was so tired, and questioning why he had never noticed them before. "Where these always on your hand?"

"Hands," Francis corrected, uncovering the other and handing it to Matthew, his blush increasing, "And from all the roses, abuse and things over the years... Oui..."

Frowning, Matthew took the other in his hands, tracing them both gently now. "I'm so sorry..."

Francis closed his eyes for a moment and nodded before opening them, his eyes brimming with a loving look as he whispered softly, "Don't be. You didn't do this to me."

"I know, but still... These feel really bad," he replied, sighing. He laid his hands on top of Francis' for a second before gently lifting up his sleeve and staring at the veins lining his arm, tears coming to his eyes as he imagined all of the pain he went through to get them looking like that...

Francis felt like he was melting into a puddle as Matthew scooted in closer, his gentle, loving hands caressing each vein with the utmost care. He couldn't remember the last time someone was this gentle with his body...

Meanwhile, Matthew's vision flashed all sorts of cruel torture into his eyes - the roses' thorns stabbing into him, the the thousand swords he had only recently found out about... And then, for some reason, all of the faceless, nameless people who had probably abused Francis, all to get that stupid sword.

Lost in these thoughts, he didn't notice when his hand slipped under the sweater's sleeve in his tracing, his delicate fingers making their way up to Francis' shoulder.

Francis blushed even harder, a sweat forming as he shivered slightly. Letting out a shaky breath, he gazed deeply into Matthew's distracted eyes.

The boy didn't notice him or what he was doing until he traced the lacework on Francis all the way to his neck...

Blushing suddenly, Matthew mumbled, "Oh, sorry..." before snaking his arm back out of the sweater sleeve.

Francis caught his hand and gave a melancholy stare, his mouth forming a saddened frown, "N-non its a-alright..."

Matthew looked up at him, feeling his heart melt as he remembered just how much Francis did like to be touched, and cared for, and... loved. He was probably enjoying Matthew's curious tracing, 'not because it was_ arousing_, but because he probably thought that no one would ever want to touch his "disgusting" body...

"Sorry," Matthew said again before gently placing his hand on Francis' arm and smiling at him. "It's just... they're kind of pretty, in a more grotesque kind of way."

Francis blushed more, asking shly with a vulnerable look that made Matthew's heart melt, "Really?"

Nodding quickly, he continued, "Y-yeah, and they feel so smooth..." He gently traced the small vein on his wrist, sighing slightly. "And yet they're beating ever so slightly, making them come alive... it's fascinating, really."

Francis smiled warmly, gazing lovingly into Matthew's eyes and feeling his heart burst with gratitude. "Matthieu... That is so," he paused, then giggled warmly and finished, "_Poetic."_

Matthew chuckled slightly. "You're just saying that..." He moved in just a little closer before pushing Francis' sleeve up his arm, smiling sheepishly. "If you don't mind...?"

Francis smiled in pure bliss and replied, "Go right ahead, Matthieu, I would love you to."

Chuckling slightly, he started from the scars on his hand again, making his way slowly back up to his shoulder. Skipping over the parts still covered with sweater, he moved to the ones barely poking out above the neck collar, pushing said collar down just a little to reach farther in. They really were hypnotizing... He just couldn't stop staring, and feeling the patterns to form a picture inside his mind instead of just looking at the spider web-like pattern was... well, it was a bit more exciting, to be honest. After all, just looking is boring, and touch is one of the stronger senses.

Francis' lashes fluttered close and brushed gently against his cheeks. His cheeks feeling even warmer as he relaxed into Matthew's touch, grateful to whoever compelled the other boy to touch him. It felt so gentle, so loving, that Francis felt his heart swell up with so many emotions. He knew Matthew was the only one he... Wanted to love. And feeling his hands running over his body only solidified that opinion more.

Unfortunately for Matthew, he was beginning to run out of new veins to trace and feeling almost frustrated about it. _If the sweater was off there'd be more..._ he thought to himself before blushing and shaking his head lightly - there was no way he could ask him to do that...! Just to fulfill some sort of odd desire. He gently traced his hand back before lying still next to Francis, sighing slightly.

Francis' eyes opened quickly as he asked, panicking, "W-What is it Matthieu?! Why did you s-stop?!"

Matthew looked at him, surprised at how... desperate he sounded. "I - well... I was running out of veins..." he muttered quietly, blushing more.

Francis stared for a moment, and then asked softly, sounding shy, "W-Would you like me to slip on some pants so you could-?"

"I-if you want!" Matthew interrupted, blushing more as he turned his head into the pillow. "I know how much you hate pants..."

Francis gave a slightly awkward look as he asked, "Do I have to wear pants, or-?"

"If that sweater's coming off, then _yes_," Matthew insisted, looking up at him.

Francis gave a weary smile and nodded, getting up and going over, slipping on a pair of Matthew's polar bear fuzzy pajama pants and then taking off the sweater, exposing his slender chest. A rose made of his veins covered a deeply scarred indent that Matthew remembered was the spot that he had... Pulled the sword out from Francis' chest. And with that memory, he stared at it as if in a trance, imagining how the veins could have looked like before the sword had left him. Would they have all been surrounding it, or just continuing around it, as if it wasn't there...?

Francis noticed his stare and gave a shy smile, explaining, "This... Flower pattern was there before you pulled it out, mon amour..."

"Oh!" Matthew exclaimed, feeling embarrassed that he was staring. "Right, okay... Thanks."

Francis giggled and nodded, getting back into bed and scooted close to Matthew, his hair covering his back, "Here, mon amour~"

Blushing more, he avoided Francis' gaze as he cautiously lifted a hand to the rose pattern, touching it gently at first, but then applying a bit of pressure as he graced his hand over all of the complicated interlockings and turns that the veins took to make such a shape. "It's beautiful..." he mumbled as he pressed onto the "heart" of the flower, where the veins met in the most complicated way.

Francis' lashes fluttered shut as he blushed darkly, whispering, almost from his heart, "You think it's... Beautiful?"

Startled a bit, Matthew looked up at him and smiled weakly. "Yeah... I mean, it's just so complicated, like something handmade."

"In one way or another," Francis replied softly, his voice sounding like the soft hum of a Mother's comforting song, "That's what they're like."

Matthew smiled lightly and, before he could stop himself, he leaned in and pressed his lips to the veined flower, shivering when he felt the beating against his more delicate skin.

Francis blushed darkly, trembling slightly and letting out a pent up breath as he smiled serenely.

Taking his head away from Francis' chest, Matthew's tired brain didn't let him fully register what he had done as he said, "That felt... kind of cool."

Francis let out a flustered giggle and replied softly, "Oui... "cool" as you call it."

Matthew chuckled slightly and leaned in, about to kiss it again when he realized just how... er, close he was. Blushing, he stopped and moved his head back up. "S-sorry..."

"Non, go ahead," Francis urged softly, stroking Matthew's hair, "P-Please..."

Matthew leaned into Francis' touch slightly before blushing more and shaking his head. "N-no... It's getting late, we should actually go to bed..."

He felt warm tears land upon his face as Francis asked one more time, "P-Please..."

Staring up into Francis' pitiful eyes and being reminded of a poor, scared animal yet again, Matthew relented. "All... all right," he said before leaning in slowly and pressing his lips even more gently against the patchwork of veins.

Francis blushed darkly and let out a soft sigh of happiness, lashes fluttering closed.

Matthew lifted his head again, ready to go to sleep, but then his hand started tracing the veins around Francis' waist, making their way to his back and around the other side until eventually he was just holding him up against him, yawning. "Time for bed..." he muttered, his arm feeling too heavy to lift off of Francis now.

Feeling Matthew's strong arms around his waist, pinning his arms to his sides, Francis gave a warm smile and sang softly, "Oui. Goodnight my prince," he finished with a dark blush painting the contours of his face, as he closed his eyes once more and purred slightly. Even though he was trapped against Matthew's chest, the other boy resting his head on top of Francis', he wouldn't have it any other way.

~!~!~!~

Surprisingly, Francis managed to find sleep despite the overwhelming heat he felt as Matthew's breath tickled his neck. He didn't mind though, because the feeling of his love's arms around him had felt like a dream come true to him, and the thought of someone wanting to be that close to the vicinity of his scarred and tattered flesh was flattering and... Relaxing.

So no nightmares invaded his thoughts that night, and when he awoke that morning, he was surprised to see his Matthew gone...

Hmm... _His_ Matthew... He liked the ring of that...

Smiling to himself, Francis pried himself out of their rather warm covers and got up with a yawn, shimmying the horrid clothing known as pants off of his body. It had been uncomfortable wearing them, but for Matthew's sake he'd make that sacrifice.

Smiling warmly, he touched a hand to his chest at the spot that Matthew had kissed. It filled him with so much affection and love in his heart as he thought of Matthew kissing it... And them maybe eventually his lips...

Rubbing at his cheeks, trying to make the blush go away, he went to his closet and took out something from a box:

Two, steel and silver gauntlets that had pockets for his acupuncture needles and a holder for each one for his knives.

Strapping them on, he loaded them quickly and then took a rope that he was weaving, which was starting to take the form of a noose.

Grinning, he tied it around his arm and then took out a renaissance looking tunic and a large, billowing sleeved cloak to hide his weapons.

Matthew would never suspect that Francis took the incentive with self defense...

Matthew sighed to himself as he scribbled some notes for his French class. Worrying his lip, he thought about this morning again... It was, well, a little _surprising _to say the least for him to wake up and find that he had been coddling Francis... Of course, after remembering what he had done last night, he supposed it wasn't too strange.

He held a hand up to his head, groaning to himself. He couldn't believe that he had traced almost _all_ of Francis' veins... why the hell had he done that!? Was he an idiot? What if Francis expected him to do it again... Although, he had to admit that he wouldn't have minded terribly...

Blushing now, he tried to focus back on his French lesson, but then asked himself for around the hundredth time since school started, "Should I have woken Francis up...?" The main reason he hadn't was because he didn't want to face him after doing something so embarrassing last night, but he also told himself it was because the blonde didn't really need to _attend_ school, so why wake him up? He mentioned that he rarely sleeps, so really his sleeping was probably more important than attending a lesson he's heard a hundred time's over.

… And did he really even need to bring up the fact that he was pretty much tortured every day during class?

Their teacher had gone out in the hall for a moment when he heard a thump of a body against the cherry wood door, making him look up.

Suddenly the door burst open and a lasso shot out, wrapping around Matthew's waist and pulling him, toppling out of his desk, much to his surprise and horror. He let out a scream as he was dragged across the floor, a million questions running through his head. _Who's pulling me? Why are they pulling me?! Is it a challenger? I've barely scraped by for my last two battles!_

Being pulled out the door, he felt arms wrap around him as they tied the lasso around his body, effectively immobilizing him. Picking him up, bridal style, the person looked down to reveal a terrified Matthew:

… Francis.

"Francis! What the hell!?" Matthew hissed at him, blushing and trying to struggle out of the ropes.

Francis grinned and pinched his cheeks with a free hand, replying cheerily, "Got bored~"

Sighing, Matthew laid his head back into the air. "Come on... I already missed my afternoon classes yesterday, I don't want to miss more..."

"I'll give you tutoring and advanced notes, mon amour~" Francis replied, as he shifted, letting Matthew feel the gauntlets under his sleeves and pale.

". . . What's on your arms...?" he asked weakly, already getting an idea in his head.

"My gauntlets, holding all my needles and daggers!" Francis replied happily, continuing to walk, "I thought I'd show you my self defense!"

Matthew looked back at his classroom door forlornly, whimpering slightly. "Can I please just go to class? The teacher will wonder why I'm not there..."

"I took care of your teacher~" he replied with a snicker, pointing at his needles, "Class is dismissed~"

Matthew stared up at him in shock. "Francis...! You can't just... take out teachers like that!-! What did you do with him!?"

"He'll be stunned for an hour~" Francis explained gleefully, "I didn't suffocate him with my noose, after all! And oui, I can acupuncture whoever I want! I am the prince!"

Sighing, Matthew just relaxed, realizing that there was no way out of this... Francis was just not going to let him attend classes, was he? Besides, if the teacher really was gone there wasn't really a point in staying inside the classroom anymore. Not to mention that if Matthew tried to tell him that he could _not_ in fact, acupuncture people simply because he was "the prince," he would either act all depressed or just start arguing with him. "Can I at least be untied now?" he decided to ask instead, glancing up at him.

"What if I don't want to?" Francis asked, raising a brow and snickering, "Maybe I want to play with you like a cat with a string~"

His face slowly turning red and starting to feel horror well up inside him, Matthew mumbled, "P-play with me how..."

Giggling hysterically, the blonde replied, "By dangling you over a balcony!"

His blood running cold as he paled, Matthew said hysterically, "Please don't!-!"

Laughing, Francis bent down and kissed his cheeks, "Just kidding, mon amour!"

Breathing out shakily in relief, the trapped boy stuttered, "D-don't do that..." Being dangled outside of a balcony did not sound like an experience he wanted to have in his lifetime...

Francis hugged him close and whispered, "Still, can't let you run away, my mouse~"

Groaning, Matthew closed his eyes and laid his head against Francis' chest. "Come on..." he begged, "I'm starting to cramp up..."

"But you'll run away~" Francis whined, gazing with watery eyes into Matthew's, even though he had closed them.

"But..." Matthew started, nibbling his lip. He didn't want to lie and say that he wouldn't run away, because he might, actually, depending just on what Francis was planning on doing to him, or where he was taking him. But on the other hand, he was starting to chafe from the tight rope. "Well, tell me where we're going, first."

"I'm taking you to the library, giving you a massage and acupuncture procedure to make sure you don't get knots," Francis gave him a gentle smile, "I know the human anatomy inside and out, and know acupuncture, massaging, and herbal remedies!"

Taking that all in, Matthew thought to himself for a moment. The massage actually sounded pretty nice - he had only gotten one once, and remembered feeling very relaxed afterwards. And considering all the stress he had been put under recently, he was probably due for another one... The acupuncture had him slightly worried, though - needles being poked into his skin sounded painful, not enjoyable. "I'll take the massage," he said suddenly, smiling up at him. "But no needles, please."

"Non, the needle are needed, oui?" Francis replied firmly, kissing his forehead happily, "I can't wait to make you feel the love of my needles! I'll make you pricklier than a hedgehog!"

Blushing slightly from the kiss on his forehead, Matthew said, "I really don't think that's necessary!"

"Oui, it is, mon bebe~" Francis purred, gently nuzzling Matthew's face.

Blushing more from how close their faces were, he mumbled pathetically, "I'm not a baby..."

"Oh I know, but you're my baby." Francis replied sweetly, kissing his nose, "My baby little bird, whom I shall feed from my mouth like the mother bird, oui?"

". . ." Matthew's response to that was to start struggling like mad to get out of the lasso, blushing immensely now as the thought of Francis feeding him through his mouth invaded his brain.

Francis held him tighter, and laughed his odd laugh, "Ohonhonhonhon, mon bebe, quite _feisty_ today~"

Halting his movements and looking up at him, Matthew whispered, "That's because you _tied me up_ and refuse to let me go!-!"

"I heard that most people love succoming to stalkholm syndrome, though~" Francis sang slightly, eyes gleaming mischievously.

Eyes widening, Matthew squeaked out, "What!? I'm not going to develop stockholm syndrome!-!"

"Maybe, sort of, kind of!" Francis rambled out quickly, giving a giggle and dragging poor Matthew into the library.

Struggling again, Matthew tried once more to get out of the holds. "_Please_ untie me and let me go back to class!"

"Non, mon bebe~ like I said, I'm booooreed~" Francis crooned, hugging Matthew.

Starting to feel frustrated, Matthew decided to try a different tactic. Switching to a pout, he whispered lowly into Francis' ear, "Please...?" while fluttering his eyelashes.

Francis blushed slightly and stopped, letting Matthew feel where the rope was weaker and untied.

Grinning to himself, Matthew stalled for a bit more time by blowing lightly down Francis' neck while he worked at the weaker part of the rope.

Francis blushed more and asked, trembling, "Mo-mon amour?!"

"Yes...?" Matthew asked slowly, most of his concentration going towards his efforts to untie himself. This knot really did not want to come undone!

Blushing more, he asked, "W-what are you doing dear?"

"Nothing..." Matthew asked, biting his lip as he tried to stall just a little bit longer. "Just... enjoying your... hold...?"

Squeaking, Francis asked in disbelief, "W-What?!"

"Got it!" Matthew exclaimed happily as he untied the rope and pulled it off of himself, jumping down from Francis' arms. "Sike! Gotta run!" he called before running away.

"Hoser!" Francis yelled, flustered, throwing a storm of needles quickly, having them hurl at Matthew as he chased after him, unsheathing a dagger.

Matthew screamed a little as some of the needles went whizzing past his head, the others tearing at his clothing and one actually hitting him in the back. "Oh man, he's mad," he mumbled to himself before looking back cautiously. He quickly stepped up his pace as he saw Francis chasing him with a dagger in hand. Eyes widening, he yelled, "Fr-Francis!-! Be reasonable!"

"I stopped being reasonable a _looonnnng_ time ago, mon amour!" Francis yelled hysterically, laughing and throwing more needles, which pinned Matthew to a wall, face-first. "And you just made me _pissed!"_

Shrinking a little, Matthew turned his head to try and look at him. "I-I'm s-sorry...!" he tried to apologize, already knowing that he was in a lot of trouble...

Francis smirked wildly, closing in on him and licking the blade of his knife. "Maaaaaathhhieeeuuuu~"

Quaking from fear, Matthew shut his eyes and let out a small whimper. _What is he going to do to me...?_

Francis stabbed the knife into the wall, near Matthew's head just to scare him, and then leaned in and... Licked Matthew's cheek slowly.

Shivering from the wetness and blushing, Matthew stammered, "F-Fra-Francis!-!" He tried moving his arms to push him away, but, regrettably, they were still stuck to the wall with the stubborn needles.

Francis backed away and giggled, replying sneakily, "Le sike!"

It took the pinned boy a few moments before he understood the trickster. And even then he was a little confused. "... What?"

"I'm not pissed at all!" Francis laughed, winking and flipping his hair.

"... Well you certainly put on a good show!" Matthew yelled, trying again to free his arms. "Why did you take out a knife!?"

"Because its pretty~" He cooed, gazing down at it fondly, " And I like shiny, pretty things~!"

Matthew sighed, deciding not to comment on how disturbing it was to think a knife was pretty. "Can you please just get me out of here, then?"

"What's the magic word~?" Francis asked, giggling when Matthew realized he looked... Off...

"... But I already said please..." he said cautiously, wondering what other word he could mean.

"Non, mon bebe~ Try again~" Francis teased, sticking out his tongue.

"... Um..." Matthew started, having absolutely no idea what he could be looking for. "Merci...?"

"Noooonnn~" Francis drawled, batting his lashes, "Try again~"

"Francis, I have absolutely no idea," he gave up, leaning his head against the wall. "What is it?"

Blinking rapidly, as if trying to stay awake, Francis replied dreamily, "J'taime~"

"... Je... taime?" Matthew echoed, trying to remember what that meant. He knew he had heard it before, but what did it mean...?

Francis twirled a long lock of his hair around his finger and giggled oddly, his pupils dilated while Matthew noticed bags under his eyes.

"Francis, are you... feeling okay?" he asked, a little concerned now.

Giving a shrill laugh, he hugged himself. Francis blinked and darted his head about, asking, "W-What?!"

"I was hoping you could tell me..." Matthew said to him, creasing his eyebrows. He had a sneaking suspicion... but could he be right? "Francis, what's the last thing you remember?"

"I remember you-you holding me and hugging and maybe loving me-and," Francis trailed off slightly, then giggled again and blinked rapidly and twitching, "And pretty, pointy things~"

Matthew pursed his lips slightly. Was it just him, or did it seem like there was two very different people inside him right now? He had thought that tying him up was a little weird, even for Francis. "Who am I speaking to right now...?" he asked curiously, glancing him over.

"Me, silly!" Francis giggled, hugging himself tighter.

"Say your name, just so I can hear it again?" Matthew insisted, starting to feel that his giggling was getting creepy.

"Frrrraaannnccciiisss~" He cooed back, beginning to fall into a giggling fit.

Matthew creased his eyebrows together. If this was truly Francis, then... why was he acting so strange? Well, whatever the case was, he should get off of this wall first. "Well, uh... please let me go, Francis? Er, J'taime?"

"New password love~" Francis laughed, staring intently at him.

"Uh..." Matthew tried, shivering slightly from his stare. "Give me a hint?"

"Give me a kiss~" Francis giggled, blinking more till Matthew noticed his irises had turned a deep purple, which frightened him. Eyes don't change color...

"... Okay," he said after a moment, coming up with a plan. "I'll... kiss you, but you have to let me go first..."

"Mattttthhhewww..." Francis said lowly, giving him a cold stare, "Time's running out... Guess the password..."

Matthew chewed on his lip hurriedly, his mind racing as he tried to guess the password. What would Francis think of? But this didn't seem like Francis... Who was this? Oh, he can't think like that right now - something told him that if he didn't guess the password soon, something bad would happen to him... and considering that this new Francis seemed to like knives, he didn't even want to try and figure out what his punishment would be.

Hair falling over one eye, purple eyes turned cold as he hissed out, "Guess. _Now._"

Freezing up, Matthew's mind only spat out one phrase - something that the true Francis would love to hear: "I - I love you!?"

Smirking wickedly, Francis chuckled, "Good guess. I find this adorable," stabbing a knife next to Matthew's head, he leaned in and hissed, "And just to give you a warning, I want you to stay away from this vessel." Narrowing his cold eyes, he said slowly, "Because if you don't, I will skin you alive, and eat every strip of your flesh slowly as you writhe in agony."

Swallowing tensely, his body going numb, Matthew turned to stare into Francis' usually kind eyes to find only malice and avarice. There was no doubt about it now - whoever this was, it was _not_ Francis. He had even called himself a vessel... who would do that, though? Who else knew about the curse? And why was he threatening him to stay away from him...

The cold eyes snickered, and then licked Matthew's cheek slowly before whispering, "Au revoir~"

Shivering from his tongue and feeling violated in every sense of the word, Matthew just glared at this imposter, wishing that his arms were free so he could at least take out his anger...

The imposture backed away, smirking and then taking out the dagger and stabbing the body viciously before falling down, clutching the knife.

Matthew cried out, staring at him in disbelief. It took all of his willpower to shut down his mind and tell himself that he was fine... Francis couldn't die. He had proven that earlier.

Yet then, his blood pressure rushed as he heard terrified screaming and sobbing, "G-Get out! L-Leave me alone!" Convulsing, he screamed, "It hurts!"

"Francis!" Matthew screamed, struggling against the needles again. "Hold on!-!" He pulled with all his might against the razor-sharp points, finally managing to break free - only tearing both of his sleeves out in the process. Stumbling back slightly, he wasted no time in running by Francis and sitting him up. "What's going on?" he asked, eyes filled with worry.

Francis' eyes were closed as he writhed about, as if not hearing him, and screamed loudly as he opened his eyes, which looked like two hot, burning red coals. His veins seemed to be popping out of his flesh as they glowed a bright, violent crimson.

"Out out out out out OUT!" Francis pleaded as he screamed, desperately trying to claw at his face.

"Francis, stop!" Matthew pleaded, grabbing his hands. "You're just going to hurt yourself more!-!" What was happening to him? Was he trying to get that other thing out of him?! Why wasn't it working!

Francis sobbed hot, miserable tears as he screamed incoherently, "S-STAY AWAY!"

Matthew bit his lip so hard that he swore he could taste blood. He looked like he was in so much pain... but how could he help?! This was a battle raging _inside _him! It's not like he could _duel_ it or something!

Suddenly, Matthew thought of something. It was a crazy idea, but... Francis had said before that he had given his heart to him, and he always talked about how a kiss could solve anything... Maybe, if he...? But that was ridiculous!

… But, supposing there was some truth to that statement... If he really was the duelist, maybe he could also duel things internally...? Through the way of a simple kiss?

As Francis let out another agonizing cry, Matthew decided it was at least worth a shot - if it didn't work, he could always yell at himself later for being an idiot who doesn't understand curses or the supernatural.

With that in mind, he leaned in a kissed Francis gently, his stomach churning and heart rate increasing as he did.

Francis' eyes became ocean blue once more as he stared in surprise, calming down.

As soon as Matthew felim stop thrashing around, he leaned back and looked him in the eyes, swallowing. "Are... are you okay, now?" He asked hopefully, yet there was still a hint of doubt in his tone.

Francis gazed up at him, and whispered, "A-Angel...?"

Blinking at him, Matthew smiled slightly. "No, I'm just Matthew... Remember?"

Francis blinked some tears and whimpered, his eyes looking lost, "A-Angel..." He hugged Matthew tightly, and began to sob.

Matthew just hugged him back, feeling tears coming to his own eyes as he thought of how tortured he had sounded just moments ago. "I'm sorry you had to go through that..." he whispered, hugging him tighter.

Francis nuzzled against his neck and whispered shakily, "I-I'm so sorry mon amour."

"It's all right," Matthew told him with conviction. "That wasn't really you... who was that, anyways? Do you know?"

Squealing, he burrowed his head into Matthew lap and begged in French, "No! No! Please! Stop!"

Startled, Matthew started petting his hair, saying hurriedly, "Sorry! It's okay, just calm down - think of happy things..."

He whimpered, taking Matthew's free hand and intertwining their fingers, "Angel!"

Matthew creased his eyebrows together. "Why do you keep calling me that...?" he asked, utterly confused. He was no angel... if he was, he would have saved Francis by now, and it wouldn't have taken him so long to figure out what was wrong with him in the first place.

"Because... You touch this twisted flesh without fear..." Francis whispered, lips grazing across Matthew's hand desperately, "You see through the thickness of this sin."

"... What do I have to fear?" Matthew asked quietly, frowning at him. He always put himself down like that... He really needed to stop that. "You've always been kind and sweet to me. To everyone..."

"I know..." He replied, kissing Matthew's hand deepy, "B-But-"

"No buts!" Matthew told him sternly,lifting his chin up with a hand so that he couldn't avoid his gaze. "You are a beautiful, kind soul, Francis... and frankly, I'm getting tired of you constantly telling yourself otherwise." Shaking his head, he continued with, "Besides, if you were really so despicable and horrible and ugly, why would I still be here, making sure you're all right? And why would I have..." he paused slightly, blushing a little, "... touched your veins last night?"

Blushing darkly, he nodded as his lashes fluttered across his colored , slender cheekbones, "M-Matthieu..."

Smiling weakly, he gave the poor boy a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up and extending his hands out to him. "Come on - let's go back to the room... You probably need rest after something like that." At least, he'd imagine so... He didn't really know what having someone else enter your body felt like.

Francis gave a shy look and gripped his hand, blushing and then... Singing softly, "_Please~ D-Dance with me!" _his Tenor voice rang out, sounding rather nice to Matthew's ears.

Chuckling, he pulled the singer up onto his feet and said, "Sure..." Laughing a bit, he pulled him a little closer, positioning them as if they were about to partake in a waltz.

Francis blushed slightly and took the woman's position, gripping his hand tightly, singing softly, "_ Thank you~_"

Matthew laughed jovially before twirling him around. "I suppose I should tell you that I have no previous dancing experience whatsoever..."

Francis chuckled and replied softly, not singing, "It's alright, mon amour~"

Shaking his head, still smiling, he muttered, "You always say that."

"I mean it~" Francis leaned in and kissed his cheek, "My prince."

Blushing slightly, Matthew sighed happily, rolling his eyes. "Okay, this prince stuff needs to stop. It's getting out of hand."

Frowning, Francis stopped abruptly, flinching and face twisting into an upset , ready-to-sob expression.

Matthew jumped slightly from how quick his mood changed, eyes widening. _Oh geez..._ he thought before hugging him tightly. "I - I was just joking! Call me prince as much as you want..."

Francis relaxed and nuzzled against him, purring, "T-Thanks!"

Matthew chuckled a little, realizing that he was probably never going to stop saying things to upset him and then end up apologizing later. But, at least he was safe now... Whatever had been inside him was gone, and he seemed back to normal.

He frowned, however, thinking that he should probably tell Arthur of what had happened... He was a magician, after all, surely he'd know more about it?

Francis hugged him tightly, as if he was his only support, and sang softly, "Angel... Of music.. Guide and guardian..."

Matthew listened intently, curious as to how the song would go on. But why did he keep calling him an angel... ?

"Bring me your glory~" His soft vibrato tickled Matthew's ear, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He smiled before leaning into Francis more to hear the song better. He really did have a beautiful voice..

"Angel of music hide no longer," his voice became louder, as he closed his cerulean eyes and smiled gracefully, "Secret and strange angel!"

Giggling, Matthew asked lightly, "Who are you singing about...?"

Blushing slightly, Francis gazed into Matthew's eyes and replied softly, "Y-You."

Sighing softly, Matthew closed his eyes as he said, "That's what I thought..." He smiled afterwards, though, to show Francis that he didn't particularly mind.

Francis smiled in relief, caressing Matthew's hands and replying, "Is it... Suitable? Am I singing it well?"

Matthew laughed, finding it funny how insecure he was. "Singing it well? No, you're not." He chuckled as he saw Francis' smile fall before adding, "You're singing it better than I've ever heard anyone sing before."

Francis relaxed and bowed slightly, replying happily, "Merci!"

Matthew laughed and would have said something more, but then the bell rang. "Oh, we should probably get out of the hallway..." Matthew said before turning to the wall that still had Francis' dagger and acupuncture needles still sticking into it, as well as some of Matthew's shirt. "... But first we should get rid of those..."

Francis nodded, looking away and giving a slightly saddened look, "Oui."

Frowning at Francis first, Matthew walked towards the wall and unstuck each needle quickly, not wanting to be seen holding such weapons during school hours. He had just unstuck the last needle and knife when people started flooding their hallway. "Oh no..." he mumbled to himself, looking around for a place to hide. Unfortunately, the only place to go, it seemed, was the window...

Francis grabbed his arm and quickly sheathed the blade in his hidden gauntlet.

"There~"

Matthew stared at him, deadpanning, "Why do you carry a knife around with you..."

"Knives," he corrected, giving a broken smile, "You never know how people will react."

Shaking his head, Matthew just started walking, hoping to melt into the crowd like he used to always do. He knew this was impossible, though, with Francis following him... And he was fine with that, a little bit - he just wished people would stop gossiping.

"_Were they ditching class?_"

"_They were out here alone!"_

"_Ew, who knows what they were doing._"

The quiet Canadian just clenched his fists, seeing it pointless to argue back with them. He turned to Francis and told him, his voice coming out a little colder than he meant it to, "We should go to our next class."

Francis stopped and let go of his arm and gave a sympathetic smile, nodding and replying solemnly, "Go. Don't let me hold you back in the school of your dreams."

Matthew blinked at him, frowning. "I can't just leave you behind..."

"I'm-I'm only a distraction..." Francis murmured, his hands slipping away from Matthew's slowly. "It is n-nothing."

Matthew glared at him a little. "You're stuttering, you idiot - you're a terrible liar." Shaking his head, he grabbed Francis' arm and started dragging him to class, muttering angrily to himself.

Francis flinched and gave a frightened look, asking timidly, "W-What?"

"Don't tell me it's nothing!" Matthew hissed at him, his anger rising as he noticed all of the eavesdroppers nearby. "You've told me so many times before that you crave affection, ergo you must hate being alone. Why would I desert my friend knowing that? Besides, maybe it's good I'm getting some attention..." he smiled wryly before finishing, "I mean, before, I probably could have walked these halls without a single one noticing me, but now I have everyone staring."

Pouting, Francis demanded, "Is that the only reason you want me here?!"

Matthew rolled his eyes, about to tell him how ridiculous that sounded before deciding to have a bit of fun with the centurion. "... Yes."

Staring, Francis then stamped a foot and sang loudly, full vibrato, triumphant like a diva, "_DAAAAAMN YOUUU!"_

The entire hallway went dead silent, the only noise being the echo off of Francis' proclamation. Everyone turned to look at him, not sure how to react.

Matthew, on the other hand, just blinked up at him before saying quietly, "Francis, I was just kidding..."

Francis smiled, and sang back wondrously, "_Damnable, for you to take aaaaaadvaaaaaangggeeee of me!"_

Everyone started laughing then, though there were still a few that found anything Francis did repulsing. Some people laughed, however, because they actually found the situation funny, others because they thought "it" had completely lost their mind, and still others because of the jaw-dropped expression on Matthew's face.

"What are you talking about!?" the boy yelled at him, "I was _not_ taking advantage of you!-!"

Taking a deep breath, Francis sang tentatively, "_I know, my," _he took a deep breath and sang loudly, at vailkery levels, "_ANNNNNNNNNNGEEEEEL!"_

Staring at him in shock, Matthew just shook his head before turning around and resuming his walk. "Never mind - I'm taking you up on your previous offer to go on ahead."

Francis blinked and sang after him desperately, "_Waaait! Here the silence of the daaaaaammmnnned!" _and followed him like a helpless puppy.

Onlookers snickered at how pathetic he looked, and one person muttered, "Oh, so Franny is the bitch?"

Francis stopped and stood, freezing in surprise as he grasped Matthew's hand, almost in a panic.

Matthew turned to him in surprised, not having heard the student's comment. "What's wrong now?"

"T-They likened... Me... To a dog..." Francis whispered, eyes wide, "A... Bitch."

Matthew felt something inside him snap upon hearing that. "... What?" he asked, staring around at everyone with the coldest glare he could muster, his hands clenching and unclenching. How _dare_ they... call him a bitch...! This kind, gently, unbelievable soul! "Do you know who, exactly?"

"First person on our left, second row." Francis muttered, staring down at the ground with a shattered look.

"I'll be right back," Matthew told him before stalking over to the person Francis pointed out, anyone in his path getting pushed away. He tapped him on the shoulder, smiling sweetly. "Hi there!" he greeted.

The student looked at him like he was crazy before asking, "What do _you_ want?"

"Oh, nothing _really_," Matthew said, holding a hand up to push his glasses in. "Except..." Straightening up and locking his arm, he used it as a sword to jab the guy _hard_ in his stomach, causing him to cry and and slump to the floor, the breath having been knocked out of him. "It's not nice to call people bitches, you know?" he finished, sticking his tongue out at him before walking by Francis and saying, "Let's go," without stopping on his way to his next class.

Francis stared after him, _shocked _that he would have done such a thing... For him!

Running after him, long robes and skirts following after him, he called out, "Wait, love, _wait!_"

Matthew didn't slow down, however, his actions finally catching up to him and filling him with guilt. That guy looked really hurt after he had jabbed him... what if he had to go to the hospital? Or worse, what if he told the principal and got him expelled? He would be in so much trouble then...

Neither boys were aware that the person Matthew had just defeated was one of the school's esteemed football players, one who was considered extremely tough and unmatched in strength. Likewise, neither were aware that, because this sports player had gotten hurt physically by such a smaller opponent, new rumors and gosip started spreading around the school.

_Looks like "it's" little boy toy isn't so weak like we thought... _

_He beat up the school's quarterback!-! _

_All because he had insulted that _thing!

_Yeah man, if you even look at "It" the wrong way he'll mess you up!-! _

_Oh man, I don't want to get on his bad side! _

_Yeah, and if all we have to do is leave Francis alone, all the better. _

_Still, what if those two are an item?_

_Gay?! Ew! No way!_

_Ha! Closets!_

_God, that is so disgusting!_

Francis took Matthew's arm and walked quickly beside him, asking in surprise, "M-Matthieu?! W-what did you-?"

Cringing a little, Matthew rubbed the back of his head and looked away. "Uh... Just, applied what Toris taught me, I guess..."

Francis gave a warm smile and laughed, tackling Matthew into a spinning hug, "Bien! Bien!"

Laughing happily, Matthew tried pushing him away. "Thanks, thanks! But really, we have to get to class before -"

He knew he had spoken too late when the bell rang.

"... The bell rings..." he finished anyways, sighing.

Francis gave a guilty look and apologized, "I-I'm sorry Matthieu-"

"It's okay... " he mumbled before smiling at him. "I'm just considering not going now... I don't want everyone staring at me for being late." Secretly, he was also a little afraid to face the students after having hurt one... What if that guy was in his next class? And the teacher walked out? And he pummelled him into the ground? That didn't sound fun...

Francis nodded, grasping his hands and leaning in, giving Matthew and ambitious, soft kiss on the lips as he whispered softly, "Thank you... For defending my honor."

Matthew had turned completely red from the kiss, and was reduced to a stammering mess as he tried to reply with something at least halfway intelligent-sounding. Only he failed miserably as he tumbled out: "Th-that was... I - you … N-no problem..."

Francis blushed as well, then leaning in and kissing Matthew's lips again, a little deeper as he breathed, "I-I'm glad."

Matthew closed his eyes as he clamped his hands tightly over his lips, looking at Francis with tears brimming his eyes. He... he didn't know what to think from his kisses... Th-they had felt nice, but... but he didn't like him that way!-!

… Did he?

Shaking his head, Matthew took a step back as he tried to sort out his confused thoughts. He had only met Francis a few days ago...! And yet already they've kissed... five times, now? That was completely ridiculous! He barely knew Francis as a person yet - he was just uncovering the many layers and secrets and other things that made him who he was. He was still developing their _friendship_. This was messing everything up!

Francis felt his heartbeat quicken as he gazed, slightly hopeful, slightly anxious, into Matthew's violet depths. He was glad he had kissed him again, and felt those warm lips he had wished to feel under his own. The attention, it all felt so wonderful to him. And Francis craved to feel it more. He wanted Matthew now more than anything, and it made his heart feel as though it would burst!

Unfortunately, Matthew started shaking his head slowly. "No..." he started quietly, closing his eyes and a single tear falling. "Please, just... don't..."

Francis' heart sunk faster than a stone. He felt as if the world around him was beginning to crash as Matthew uttered those words. N-No! He was suppose to feel his undying love! Why wasn't he?! Why was he asking him to... To not..

Backing away slowly, Francis stared in horror and disbelief. Tears flooded out of his eyes as he continued to stare at Matthew and whispered, "W-Why can't you-?"

"Can we just stay friends for a little while!-!" Matthew yelled, dropping his hands to hug himself instead and look down, shaking slightly. "You're moving too fast..."

"F-Fast... B-but a wedding h-happens in a week still... R-Right?" Francis asked slowly, beginning to panic.

Matthew shook his head, looking up at him, more tears falling down. "No... People date for a few years before even getting engaged, and sometimes people are engaged for a few years as well nowadays..." He closed his eyes tightly again before yelling, "But before all that they're friends!-! So stop trying to rush the process!" He turned around, his lip quivering. "I-I'm going to go..."

Francis rushed away in a panicking fit of violent, hyperventilating sobs, guilt, fear and shame overcoming him.

Matthew heard him leave, standing there silently as that scene replayed over and over in his mind. He was right about this... right? They needed to know each other better first... That's what he was always told, and that's what he believed...

Sniffling, Matthew started walking away, wanting to talk to someone about everything that had happened to him... But who? Who would understand...?

… Well, maybe Arthur or Alfred would...

**Author's Note, TheGuardianKnux: D~R~A~M~A~ XD I'd say what happens next, but that would spoil things~**


	10. Tears of Happiness Between Silence

Holding the Brit tightly, Francis sobbed into him like a quivering, pained, tortured mess as they both sat on a library couch. He felt terrified, panicked, and most of all ashamed. He had done things wrong, oh so wrong in his mind. And he truly felt that there was no one to turn to.

"Francis..." Arthur tried to say, looking at him sadly and feeling his heart breaking. "I - I'm sure it's not that bad..."

"H-He hates me! He doesn't feel my undying devotion to his soul!" Francis wailed, squeezing the poor Brit and rubbing at his eyes furiously as he squirmed in pain.

Arthur sighed, patting him on the back comfortingly. "I don't think he _hates_ you, per say... he might just need some time to think a few things over..."

Bolting his head up, Francis snarled angrily, "What things?! I love him, he is _supposed to love me, _and then we get married in the morning!"

… Arthur almost felt like laughing at how naive that sounded, but considering how seriously Francis took it, he just shook his head instead. "I think I see what the problem is..."

The dramatic blonde grasped his shoulders and demanded hysterically, "What?! What?!"

Rolling his eyes, Arthur flicked him between the eyes. "It's _you_, you twit!" He sighed and held a hand up to his head before explaining slowly, "Matthew is one to take relationships slow and steady, he's not going to just rush into love at the first signs of it like you!"

Francis stared before tackling and choking the Brition in a hysterical rage, "No one gives me love except for _him!" _ He tried biting at Arthur's flesh viciously, angry tears slipping out in streams, "I am nothing without _him!"_

"Damn it Francis - _get of!_" he pushed the hysterical man off of him, standing up and glaring at him. "You need to get a hold of yourself and try and see things from someone else's point of view, for once!"

"What?! That he rejects me and now I shall kill myself, over and over again!?" Francis yelled at him, looking ready to claw Arthur's eyes out.

"No!" Arthur yelled, starting to get frustrated. "I mean try doing what he wants and stay _friends_!" Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Arthur continued, "Just look at me and Alfred for goodness' sakes - we knew each other practically our whole lives and have just _now _gotten together, probably after years of wanting that very thing! That's what Matthew _wants_ - to fall in love with a friend after knowing them for a while! Why can't you understand that!?"

"Because I've craved companionship for years!" Francis cried out, "I've wanted someone to love me, to hold me, to treat me kindly, to look at me as more than just an object!" he sobbed furiously, "You mortal men have it so easy! You have the patience to wait, the apprehension, the short lives! But I can never," he grasped Arthur's shoulders and shook him, "Ever have such a blessing! I'll always be alone! Everyone around me will die, fade away, move on! That's why I try so hard to get close quick, before they leave me!" Francis gave another broken sob and fell to the ground, "So that I can bond with them before they're gone forever!"

Arthur stared down at him pitifully, sighing and kneeling down to hug him again. "Francis... You're being a drama queen again." Before the boy could interrupt him, he said, "I understand that living for three hundred years may make it seem like people die within a week to you, but we live for quite a long time... Matthew's still a teenager - he has a long life ahead of him by normal standards. And couldn't you see that you two were progressing pretty fast already? By modern terms, anyways." Shaking his head, Arthur finished with, "You need to decide what's more important, Francis - Matthew, or your petty need to be loved by someone..."

Francis laid still in his arms and processed what he said. Mouth sealing shut, the words piled on him like suffocating bricks as he felt jumbled, too jumbled to reply. So instead, he began to shut down, guilt suffocating him like a flood of water.

Arthur could feel Francis freeze up, causing him to sigh. "You know nothing will come of you shutting down..." he muttered, "I think the best you can do right now is to move past this and try your best to regain your _friendship_ with Matthew. Though I warn you, the progress you've made might be diminished greatly..."

Francis freezed up more as tears flooded down his neutral face and he simply stayed curled up in his ball like form, shutting himself away from all the pain he could as he didn't answer.

Arthur worried his lip, his heart sinking again as he stared down at the broken man in his lap. It was true that all he ever wanted was someone to love him... someone to treat him kindly, and gently - not like an object. Of course he'd want to jump into such a relationship right away... Oh, if only Matthew could understand his pain, he might forgive him...

Sighing, Arthur discreetly took out his phone and sent a text to Alfred: _"Is Matthew talking to you yet?_"

_Yeah. He is. _Alfred sent back quickly with a surprising amount of attention to spelling and punctuation, not to mention capitalization.

_Keep him there as long as possible_, Arthur typed, frowning as he looked at Francis again. _I'm going to try and talk to him when I'm done with Francis..._

His phone vibrated quickly as Alfred asked, _Emotional breakdown code five: serviere?_

_Big time. _

_Get the funnel if he forgets how to eat again._

Despite everything happening at the moment, Arthur still smiled and took a moment to appreciate how Alfred could always lift his spirits up. _Will do, Captain America. _

_Thanks, Sherlock. 3 _Alfred replied.

Sighing contentedly, Arthur put his phone back in his pocket and returned to the matter at hand - or, rather, the Frenchman at lap.

~!~!~!~

"I mean, what does he expect of me?" Matthew complained to Alfred after having explained what had happened earlier with... Francis, and him kissing him. Twice. He was slumped over on the counter as the American listened, feeling sort of depressed. "Did he really expect me to just jump into his arms or something?!"

Rummaging through some kitchen cabinets while standing on a rolling chair, Alfred pondered this before explaining bluntly, "Well, considering Francis is all sensitive and will ball out his eyes at the drop of a hat..." He spun around and stared at Matthew with a slightly stern look, "Then what do you think, Celine Dion?"

"... Celine Dion?" Matthew repeated, trying to shrink himself as guilt overwhelmed him. But why should _he_ be feeling guilty! It was Francis' fault for... doing that. It wasn't _his_ fault that he didn't feel the same way! So he shouldn't be worrying about Francis and imagining him crying for hours... welling up in his sadness and not seeing any way out of it..

"She's Canadian, you're Canadian," Alfred explained dismissively, lazily motioning with a hand and going back to his kitchen rummaging, "I'm Captain America, Arthur's Sherlock, Francis is The Phantom, Ivan's practically the KGB, and then I call Toris, Link," Alfred gave himself a smile and then quickly surfed his way over to the other side of the kitchen and added, "Anyways, dude, Franny is probably in a depression hole that he'll stay in for months or something."

"Well that's not my fault!-!" Matthew screamed, sitting up and slamming his hands on the counter, frowning. "I just reacted like any normal, reasonable person would!-!"

"Well, your problem is that the person you are dealing with isn't reasonable or normal." Alfred retorted bluntly, not looking up from his haste, "And I'd say especially on the not reasonable part at the moment."

Groaning, Matthew slammed his head down again, covering it up with his arms. "Why is this happening to me..." He knew Alfred was right. No matter what he said, Francis wasn't going to listen to it... unless he said "I love you." But he can't do that!-! His heart wasn't at that point yet...! It would be more cruel to proclaim false feelings then telling the truth, wouldn't it?

"Because Mattie, they say adventure is out there," Alfred rolled up to him and tousled the Canadian's hair, the American giving him a look of sympathy, "And adventure evidently wanted to smack you in the face. But," he paused dramatically, "Besides that, you can at least have comfort that you both messed up, right?"

Scoffing, Matthew mumbled, "Oh please, as if that's going to let us solve anything." Lifting his head to look up at Alfred, he almost looked angry. "You're right - Francis is unreasonable. And because of that, things are just going to stay as awkward as they come because _he won't forget about this_." Clenching his fists and grinding his teeth, he continued, "He's just going to keep wallowing in the fact that I don't like him that way, and it will show on his face, and I'm just going to get madder and madder every time I see it..." He started shaking as he said lowly, "We'll never be able to be friends again..."

"Well I wouldn't go that... Far..." Alfred muttered, feeling his confidence dropping before sighing in frustration and taking his glasses off, slamming them down on the counter and snapping, "Look dude, can I just be blunt with you for a few minutes?!"

Matthew took a deep, calming breath before saying, "Sure, why not? That's all everyone here seems to be good at - being blunt."

"Yeah well, you came to a school with blood sucking flowers and shit, so what do you expect?!" Alfred yelled slightly, throwing up his hands into the air, "We can't necessarily sugar coat all this crap that happens alright?!"

"Well I didn't _know_ how messed up this school was!-! Now did I?!" Matthew yelled at him, huffing. "All my life i've wanted to come here to become someone - to get a good education and do the things I love! I didn't _know_ all of this other stuff was here!"

"Yeah!? Well, that's life for ya!" Alfred answered with a frustrated growl, "And I get why you're uncomfortable, and pissed, and all this other stuff, but we have to face facts here!" grasping Matthew by the shoulders, he shook him slightly, "We only have so much time! Eventually we graduate and have to move on! And you know what sucks about that?! Francis won't age or leave with us, he'll just be trapped here, wishing he could have done _something,_ _anything_ to pay you back for all that precious time he felt he had stolen from you to help him break free, or it were to never happen!"

Matthew stared at him, feeling his heart sink. "... I know," he said quietly, feelings water edge his eyes again. "I know there's only so much time, and I know it's bad that he can't age or leave... but I don't understand why romance has to be a part of it!" He closed his eyes, looking down. "I should just be focusing on sword training, and maybe helping break the actual curse as well... He wouldn't have to "repay" me for anything because I would _want_ to help! Just being his friend..." He smiled slightly before wiping his eyes, "Is already adventure enough."

Alfred sighed in relief and from letting a high amount of tension out of his body. Sitting down on his rolling chair, he ran his hands stressfully through his hair and replied quietly, "I know it is. But," he looked up into Matthew's eyes, his gaze full of pained emotion, "Have you ever thought of what it would be like to love something, so much, with all your heart and never have that returned back for you... Especially if you're always alone?"

Sighing, Matthew rubbed the back of his head, trying to imagine just that... He would imagine it would feel horrible, but he couldn't really understand it fully... He didn't have an example from his own life.

He closed his eyes then, and started thinking about himself being in a room, all alone, with nothing and no one inside... Wanting nothing more than to... just have a friend, someone to talk to, someone to listen to him, someone to have fun with...

And then, one finally comes. Someone finally comes and acts nice to you, and you're so thankful to them and love them so much just because they're there - being with you after being so alone, so neglected... You just want to always be near them, laughing and smiling always, since they fill you with such happiness just by _being there_.

And you tell them that, your feelings, and they... don't feel the same...

Feeling his heart break as he snapped his eyes open again, Matthew laid his head down on the counter again and asked, sounding completely broken now, "Then what do you think I should do...?"

Alfred gave him a calm look and then petted Matthew's hair comfortingly, replying, "I'm not saying you have to admit that you love him, or kiss him on the lips, or any of that stuff," Alfred took a deep breath, "I think... Telling him that you aren't mad at him, and that you still care about him, that your friendship isn't ruined, and that you forgive him are some things you can do..." Alfred gave a sad look, "Because right now, he may be on the verge of just giving up, and never coming back to us on a mental and emotional standpoint."

Taking a deep breath and smiling a little, Matthew replied, "I think I'll do just that... it better work, though..." he snorted to himself before mumbling, "especially considering we share a bed."

Alfred gave a soft chuckle and then spotted something behind Matthew. Grabbing what it was, he cheered and fist pumped, "Yes! I found the funnel!"

Blinking at him, Matthew creased his eyebrows together. "Funnel? For what?"

"In case Francis forgets how to eat if we snap him out of this." Alfred replied simply.

"... That could happen?" Matthew asked, frowning.

"Yep," Alfred answered, smile gone, "Matthew, I wasn't joking about him possibly being very broken this time."

". . . Oh," Matthew muttered, starting to feel his insides scrunch up as he imagined Francis so wrecked that he tried to kill himself again. "... Where, uh, would he be, then...?"

"With Arthur, probably curled up in a shutdown ball with a blank stare," Alfred replied, turning away from him and picking up his glasses.

Crossing his arms, Matthew frowned even more. "Then I should go talk to him right now, huh?"

"If you don't want him to uncover his guillotine, then yes, yes you should." Alfred answered, grasping Matthew's wrist.

Matthew paled as he imagined the horrible torture device, as well as a previous mental image of Francis walking around without a head. His knees began to wobble as he said shakily, "Oh God..."

"Exactly," Alfred replied, giving a pained expression and beginning to hurry, "C-Come on!"

Matthew followed after him, biting his lip as his mind started filling itself with all sorts of terrifying images involving Francis, blood, and tears... so, many, tears... And crying, agonizing screams as he constantly degraded himself and yelled at himself for messing everything up.

Eventually he started running faster than Alfred and calling for _him_ to hurry up.

Alfred hurried after him, yelling in surprise.

Not knowing where to go, Matthew just ran down every library aisle, having a sneaking suspicion that they would be in here as well... It seemed like the library was always empty, unless here was a big exam coming up, so Francis and the rest of his friends probably enjoyed it for the solitude it provided.

Soon, he heard heart-wrenching sobs, and he knew they were Francis' based on purely how... broken they sounded.

Arthur was still holding the sobbing form close, with a tired and worn expression as Francis sobbed his heart out. He had just been crying like that for a good ten minutes... And there was nothing really Arthur could say to console him. He happened to look up, though, and see Matthew, surprise evident on his face. He smiled when he saw the quiet boy look at him sheepishly and wave a little bit, tiptoeing over to them as he held a finger in front of his mouth to tell him to be quiet.

Arthur let out a little breath of relief, assuming that Matthew was here to talk some sense into the hysterical Frenchman. Who knows, maybe their relationship will turn out stronger because of all this...

He smiled a little more as he realized that Alfred must have done a good job talking to him. He'll admit that he hadn't expected the American to be able to handle this situation... but he definitely had to thank him later.

Meanwhile, Matthew creeped along until eventually he was standing right next to Francis and Arthur, biting his lip as he stared down at Francis sadly, his heart breaking as he saw just how drained and despondent Francis looked... Gently, he placed a hand on the crying boy's shoulder and whispered, "Francis...?"

Said boy flinched and rubbed his throat, eyes darting around and looking for the source of Matthew's voice, trembling greatly.

"... Please stop crying," Matthew continued, squeezing his shoulder slightly. "You're not as beautiful when you cry..."

Francis gave him a blank stare and shifted, clutching himself and his hair and gazing into Matthew's eyes fearfully, shaking like a leaf.

Taking a shallow breath, a little put off by Francis' stare, Matthew started out quietly, "I... I'm not mad at you... okay? After... thinking for awhile, I realized that... I can't really blame you for anything." He smiled weakly and finished, quite lamely, in his opinion, with, "And if you're up for it, I'd be more than happy to stay friends with you..."

Francis stared for a moment, then quickly hugged Matthew and tried to kiss him desperately, incredibly thankful that the one he loved didn't hate him. He soon felt his lips being pinched together, however, a mere few inches away from Matthew's face.

"N-no, no no," Matthew told him, blushing slightly but still shaking his head. He started talking as if he was scolding a child, "None of that, Francis... Friends only kiss each other on the cheeks, all right?"

Francis gave a blank stare and nodded, beginning to shake more and curl in on himself.

Sighing, Matthew took the initiative and kissed him on the cheek before hugging him, whispering, "Stop being so hard on yourself..."

The blonde gave a soft nod and hugged Matthew tightly, as if for dear life, and hid his face in the crook of his neck.

"... Come on, let's go back to the room," Matthew said, unsure of what else to do now. "I probably have a lot of schoolwork to catch up on."

Francis gave another nod, refusing to let go as he trembled, still crying slightly.

Matthew led him slowly out of the library, passing Arthur and Alfred and smiling at them slightly. "Thanks, Alfred," he told him with a little salute.

Alfred gave him a warm smile and replied with his own salute, "That's Captain America to you, Miss Dion."

Matthew laughed slightly before grinning, throwing over his shoulder as he kept leading Francis by the hand, "Have fun with Sherlock, Captain. I wonder what kind of things you'll get up to with me and the Phantom gone."

Blushing slightly, Arthur rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Ha ha ha, very funny, Matthew."

"Solving mysteries~" Alfred replied with a wink, sticking out his tongue and wrapping an arm around Arthur's waist.

His face turning just a slide deeper shade of red, Arthur looked at the ground shyly before smiling. "I suppose..."

Clicking his tongue, Alfred leaned over and kissed Arthur tenderly.

Breath catching, he hesitated for just a second before kissing him back. "I told you I'd try..." He muttered, chuckling. "And I have to say, I didn't expect you to be able to talk to Matthew so well..." he added, glancing at the boy who was now out of the library, his moody friend in tow.

Alfred's smile faltered as he gave a slightly distressed look and sighed, "I-I-" He then hugged Arthur tightly and admitted to him, "I'm scared, Arthur."

Surprised, Arthur hugged him back tightly, whispering in his ear, "Of what, love?"

Alfred sat down with Arthur and continued to hug him tightly and hide his face in the Brit's neck and replied softly, "Of-of- Helping him!"

Frowning slightly, Arthur looked him in the eyes. "Why...?"

"W-What if we never do anything - w-which means I failed!" Alfred wailed, hugging him tightly and shaking.

Alfred sighed and laid his head on top of his. "Oh, Alfred..." He closed his eyes and buried his face into the boy's soft hair, saying quietly, "I can't guarantee anything, you know that... but we just have to keep trying. We can't be afraid of failure... and we can't just not try."

"I-I know... B-But I want them to be happy..." Alfred whimpered, trying to rub at his eyes, "Why aren't they happy?"

Chuckling slightly, Arthur assured, "They will be. Very soon, I think... but for now, I think they seem pretty happy."

"I can tell one of them doesn't seem to to be though..." Alfred whimpered more, nuzzling into Arthur's chest.

Arthur snickered a little. "That git'll never be happy..." He gently moved Alfred up so he could kiss him, smiling warmly into his eyes, "It's sweet of you to care so much, love, but there's not really much we can do about it. These things take time..."

Alfred pouted childishly and kissed back, giving a frustrated look as he agreed begrudgingly, "I guess so... And stuff..."

Arthur laughed at him before patting his head and ruffling his hair. "Look, if you're really so worried, why don't you help me figure out a way to break the curse?" He smirked before whispering in his ear, "If you find anything, I'll give you a treat~"

Alfred's eyes widened and began to sparkle as his cowlick wiggled. Licking his lips hungrily, he asked, "Really, really, really?!"

"What possible reason would I have to lie to you?" Arthur asked, laughing at his reaction before standing up.

Alfred bounced up and nodded quickly, smooching Arthur and then speeding down the library rows, yelling excitedly, "I'll go get my pistols!"

"... Pistols?" Arthur asked curiously, following after him.

Alfred popped his head out with a giggle and replied bluntly, "I'm a sharpshooter! I don't just own my toy cork guns!"

"I know _that_, but... what would you use the pistols for?"

"Target practice, so I can help!" Alfred replied happily, hugging Arthur and dragging him down to a certain book shelf before pulling a book with a grin, "And there's something I haven't shown you yet."

Raising a brow curiously, he asked, "What is it...?" as he peered down at the book in his hands.

"My hidden Justice Destiny Strike Freedom Weapon's room, of course!" Alfred replied, releasing the book and giving an excited grin.

"... I'm still not understanding how this would help with the curse..."

Alfred threw Arthur over his shoulder and proclaimed, "Because I am an eccentric, rich, playboy philanthropist like Bruce Wayne!"

Arthur sighed and laid against Alfred's back. "I still don't get what you're blathering on about! What does this have to do with anything...?"

"So I can protect him, duh!" Alfred replied, running into the secret room hidden behind two bookshelves, "It's imppoooooorrrtttaaannnnttt Artieeeeeee!"

Smiling at Alfred's childishness, Arthur asked brightly, "You just really want to be the hero, don't you?"

Alfred paused and replied lovingly, "Yeah... I do, even though I know Matthew's the hero in this story, and I'm just his lancer."

"... Well... if it's any consolation," Arthur said quietly, blushing and smiling sheepishly as he admitted, "You're my hero..."

Alfred blinked in surprise before tearing up, bringing Arthur back down and hugging him tightly while beaming, "I-I can't believe it!"

"Believe it," Arthur told him, smiling and kissing him again.

Alfred purred and kissed him back, cowlick wiggling.

Arthur smiled into the kiss and, without breaking it, started walking backwards into his secret room. "Come on, then," he mumbled against his lips, "Show me all your weapons."

Alfred grinned wildly, showering Arthur with excited smooches and bringing him over to a handgun display on the right side of the high-tech room.

Laughing a little, Arthur looked at it with intrigue. "Why is that one displayed like that?"

"Oh those? Those are my babies~" Alfred says with a loving sigh, taking down four identical hand guns that had intricate designs on them as well as charms, "The set is called Scarborough Fair," Taking one down, he explained by pointing at it's colored core, and the charms on the end, "Each one is named after a plant from an ancient British ballad."

"... British?" Arthur asked knowingly, smirking slightly. "When did you get those guns?"

Alfred gave a dreamy sigh and answered, "This year~" He stared at the green centered one, going from green to pink to blue to yellow and listing their names, "They're parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme~" He then purred, stroking parsley, "And they are the sexiest British weapons I have ever laid my eyes on~ Why are Brits so sexy~?"

Chuckling, his ego inflated, Arthur crossed his arms and replied, "We just are, love. We just are."

Nodding slowly, Alfred replied, "I can believe that~" He took down the other guns and then an odd holding device attached to a pair of... Stiletto boots?

"Alfred, why is there boots on your weapon...?"

"Because I do hand and leg combat, especially with my guns!" Alfred grinned, slipping the boots on and grasping the other two guns after having set up the ones for his boots, "And as to why they're high heeled, it's to practice my balance!"

Arthur just stared at him for a second before sliding a hand down his face. "God, you're so weird..."

"Awww! Thanks my little crumpet... But um... There's something else I have to admit..." Alfred replied, biting his lip and giving a tense look, "I'm... Uh...Um... Well, demon slayer..."

"... Demon slayer?" Arthur repeated narrowing his eyes.

Alfred gave a nervous nod and stammered, "Y-Yeah... I hunt... demons... On Friday nights... These guns are meant for.. Um.. Witches... Which I could possibly be..."

Arthur felt himself start to shake as he clenched his fists, trying to ask calmly, "Is that so...?" but failing miserably. He couldn't believe what he was hearing...! Was this really all true!? That _would_ explain why he never wanted to hang out on Friday nights...

Stammering more, Alfred nodded hurriedly, "W-Well, why do you think my family is rich? W-We hunt demons for money..."

Arthur closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Why did you wait until _now_ to tell me this...?"

"W-Well, I didn't know if you'd take it all that well, knowing I was a witch or something and then maybe you wouldn't believe me-"Alfred began to ramble, trembling.

"I had the same fears, you know," Arthur interrupted, frowning. "But I still told you I was a magician!"

"Y-Yeah! But demons and angels like to kill us witches, _not magicians!'_ Alfred cried out in fear, placing his guns on the table and cowering in front of Arthur, "And humans don't exactly like us either... Magicians get to go to a lot more parties than witches..."

Arthur sighed, holding a hand up to his head and stating, "What are you talking about? What partis?" He creased his eyebrows together as he asked quietly, "Do you mean to say you were worried that I might be killed if I found out about you...?"

"N-No!" Alfred replied, hugging him tightly, "I was just afraid you'd call me an evil, gun toting mercenary who knows a lot about the supernatural!"

Not being able to help himself, Arthur burst into laughter. "Wh-why in the world would I call _you_, _YOU_ of all people evil!? And really, Alfred? Gun-toting mercenary?"

"Mercenary sexy witch assassin!" Alfred cried out, hugging Arthur by his legs, face first on the floor in tears, "Who looks good in cat suits made of his own hair, and wears nice boots, and knows how to eat a spaghetti taco!"

Arthur sighed and bent down, petting his hair. "Alfred, you're not making any sense..."

Alfred sniffled and looked up with big, watery eyes, "Yeah I am... Don't you know a witch's hair is his or her's best and most powerful weapon?!"

".. No..."Arthur admiitted, smiling sheepishly. "I never really did much studying up on witches, I'm afraid... They didn't seem that... interesting..."

Alfred gave him a shocked looked and objected, sobbing furiously, "I'm interesting! My hair can turn into evil pagan forces and eat people, sending them to Hell and stuff!"

"... Y-yes, that sounds very interesting..." Arthur said, biting his lip. "What else can you do...?"

"Use weapons made of slayed demons, can use an ability of slowing incoming bullets down, make pretty good lasagna, using my hair as a body suit..." Alfred blushed slightly at the last fact, glancing away.

Arthur chuckled at his embarrassment, ruffling his hair again. "I've always thought you had great hair..."

Alfred blushed a little more and then closed his eyes, letting his usually short hair extend out and wrap around Arthur lovingly, almost like a sea of tentacles, petting and squishing Arthur's face as he asked shyly, "Really?"

Arthur laughed a bit nervously, glancing at the hair all around him. He'll admit that it felt a little weird... but good, he supposed... "Y-yes, it's very soft..." he managed to say, though he sounded kind of uncomfortable.

Alfred laughed and hugged him, letting his hair fall down his back and twitch, "Thanksies~"

Laughing again and holding a hand up to run it through his own hair, Arthur mumbled, "My boyfriend is a witch... What do I tell me mum?"

"That I'm a sexy witch?" Alfred suggested, eyes sparkling as some locks of his hair lifted up to Arthur's face and molded into a rose, "And that I like haggis?,

Arthur laughed as he took the hair rose and pretended to sniff it. "Well, she'll like the haggis part at least."

"Won't your brothers you hate like that too?" Alfred asked curiously, giving a wry smile.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "They're just torture me for having a boyfriend in the first place."

"And I'll devour their souls hungrily if they do!" Alfred replied cheerily.

"... Alfred, dear," Arthur began slowly, looking him dead in the eye, "Don't eat my family's souls..."

Alfred gave a slight pout and whined, "But the Infernal Demons in my hair get hungry... And you don't like your brothers..."

Arthur shook his head. "I'm sorry, but _no_. … And what have you been feeding your demons anyways?"

"Hamburgers!" Alfred cheered, hugging Arthur tightly and laughing, "That's why I eat so much!"

"... You're serious?" Arthur asked, hugging him back.

"Completely! Gomorrah loves them!" Alfred explained simply, as if talking about the weather.

Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had so many questions to ask Alfred later... but for now, one thought came to his mind, so he said, "Okay, tonight's going to be full of questions, Alfy, but for right now," he looked him in the eyes, saying seriously, "You're a witch... just like the creature that cursed Francis. Would you be able to inspect him a little closer? Find out what exactly is the magic's weakness?"

Alfred paused, then gave him a calm look, nodding, "I can do that. After all, I need to know which clan this sorceress is from."

Arthur smiled, letting out a breath of relief. "That's so good to hear! We might be so much closer to solving this!" He then gave him a stern look before rapping him on the head. "Why didn't you come forth with this information sooner!?"

Alfred stiffened, quivering and stammering, "W-Well I'm young, and still in training, and in awkward witch puberty-"

"Awkward witch puberty?" Arthur asked, dumbfounded. "What the bloody hell is that?!"

Alfred blushed darkly and squeaked, backing up against a wall as Arthur gave him a stern look.

"Alfred, you have to tell me now..." he said seriously, placing his hands on either side of him to keep him there. He was smirking inside, though - he had to admit that he looked incredibly cute when he blushed like that.

"B-But it's embarrassing..." Alfred whined, blushing more and pouting slightly, "Artieeee!"

Arthur chuckled a bit and, feeling bold, leaned in and nipped at his pouting lips. "Stop pouting and just tell me already."

Alfred squeaked more, replying in a strained, low tone, "It's w-where you have to suffer being female for three weeks in July, each year, around my birthday till I'm eighteen."

… You have to give Arthur credit. He managed to last a whole one second before he fell to the ground in hysterical laughter, holding his stomach as he asked, "Is th-that why I walked in on you w-wearing a dress!?"

"Y-Yes..." Alfred muttered, "It's not a drastic change... And besides," he lowered his voice more, "I'm flat chested anyways..."

Snickering, Arthur teased, "That's all right - you'd still make a pretty g-girl, Alfred." He laughed more, his sides starting to hurt.

"Wanker!" Alfred cried out, blushing more and stamping a foot, "And I am MANLY, thank you!"

"And what should I get you for your birthday, then?" Arthur continued his torment, still laughing. "A purse? A dress? Ooh, you might look dashing in some lingerie~" He laughed harder and curled up into a ball, finding the whole thing incredibly amusing.

Squirming with embarrassment at his perverted suggestion, Alfred felt horribly flustered and tormented as he whined, "B-Baka!"

Still chuckling, Arthur managed to slowly stand himself up. "I'm sorry, Alfred..." he smirked, "Or should I say, Allie?"

"Shut up!" Alfred whined more, shaking and feeling more embarrassed, "You perverted Tsundere!"

Arthur's eye twitched as the insult, but instead of yelling he just chuckled and muttered, "No wonder you ship UKUS so hard..."

"W-Why would you say that?!" Alfred demanded, eyeing a small door in the secret room nervously.

Chuckling, Arthur walked over to him and trapped him against the wall again, leaning in and whispering seductively, "Because, everyone knows the man tops."

Blushing a crimson red, Alfred stared at him in embarassed horror and squirmed, thrashing about as he yelled, "You're a huge pervert, Arthur!"

"You're the one who's always wanting to roleplay," Arthur said, rolling his eyes as he grabbed his shoulders and held him in place. "Besides..." smirking he leaned in and breathed over his lips, "Don't tell me you don't enjoy this at least a little bit..."

"Not when you're teasing me about having to be a chick three weeks out of the year!" Alfred retorted, giving a childish glare.

Arthur chuckled a bit before he realized something. "... Wait, do you actually want me to act like this more often?" he asked, sounding more like the gentleman he tried to be instead of the previous act he had been putting on.

Becoming more flustered, Alfred wiggled and squirmed more and whined at him, "I don't know!"

"..." Arthur found himself grinning as he said, "Well... I suppose I could act like that once in a while..." He laughed before saying, "And considering you _did_ find something to help Francis... I do owe you a treat..." he smirked before leaning in and whispering into his ear, "And I promise, I won't tease you about being a girl anymore..." He bit his ear then, blushing a little as he realized that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

Alfred's temperature flared up as his nose started to bleed, his knees wobbling before he collapsed and whimpered, "Arthur!"

Completely shocked by Alfred's reaction, the Brit kneeled down and smiled sympathetically. "Heh, sorry, love..."

Alfred glared at him and made a "Hmph!" noise, pouting crossing his arms as he turned away from him stubbornly.

Arthur rolled his eyes before taking a tissue out of his inside jacket pocket and handing it to him. "Don't act so mad, dear... You've got a little something coming out of your nose again," he grinned before deciding to wipe the blood off of him himself. "So I know you must have enjoyed something..."

"Baka!" Alfred cried out at him like an accusation as he squirmed and blushed more, "Perverted baka!"

Arthur's eye twitched from his comment, but instead of yelling at him he just smiled devilishly and asked lowly, "Does this mean you don't want your treat...?"

Whipping around, he cried out desperately, clawing at Arthur's pants to lift himself up, "No! I want it! Pwease pwease pweaaaaaassee!?"

Laughing, he asked, "I figured as much - so, what do you want?"

"I want some of your sccccooonnnees!" Alfred begged excitedly, nuzzling Arthur's legs.

The magician laughed at his witchy boyfriend before smirking. "Well, all right, I'll be happy to make them for you..." he leaned down and whispered coarsely, "But just for the record, that wasn't the kind of treat I had in mind when I made the offer..."

Alfred's face flushed more and he clamped his mouth shut, whining slightly and curling up into a ball, "Stupid sexy Brit..."

Arthur laughed. "Thanks, love~" he chuckled before picking him up bridal style. "That's funny - usually it's me saying stupid sexy yank."

Alfred hid his face in Arthur's chest, mumbling incoherently.

Arthur chuckled as he started walking out of Alfred's secret gun room. Not being able to help himself, he said, "Well, it makes sense I guess - since usually you're not a girl."

Alfred glared up at him then smirked, speaking French to him.

"... Why are you talking in that horrid language?" he asked, eye twitching again.

"To get back at you, pervert~" Alfred answered in French, smirk widening.

Arthur sighed before humming to himself. "I don't really feel like kissing you anymore, what with that horrible accent."

Alfred gave a horrified look, and asked in his best British accent, "P-Please!?"

". . ." Arthur froze for a second before blushing and nuzzling against Alfred's cheek, rambling, "Oh, you sound so adorable like that!-! I can never resist you when you talk like that - it's just so... so..." He blushed a bit more before kissing him, resuming his walking as he mumbled, "Sexy."

Alfred gave a smirk that fell into a goofy smile as he asked, keeping the accent up, "R-Really, governor?"

Chuckling a bit, he kissed him a little deeper, licking his bottom lip slightly. "_Really_, love~"

"I love it when you say love~" Alfred whispered airly, kissing back weakly.

Chuckling, Arthur just kept on carrying him out of the room, smiling and feeling giddy with happiness. He couldn't help but think about how lucky he was to have someone like Alfred... He might not be perfect, but he was as good as he could ask for.

"Good," Arthur finally said, kissing him again. "Because I _love_ you."

Alfred just gave a happy purr and meowed at him, smiling goofily as Arthur carried him all the way to his room.

~!~!~!~

Gazing up at Matthew with large, watering, puppy dog eyes, Francis held a book out to him with a begging look which was: a simple picture book about Rapunzel.

Evidently from Francis' meltdown before, the blonde had reverted to an odd, child like state. He wasn't talking, (from all that sobbing it seemed), and he would cling to Matthew as though his life depended on it, and also seemed to not want to let go...

And now, he wanted Matthew to read to him.

Sighing, Matthew took the book from his hand grudgingly and peered down at it. "You want me to read to you now?" he asked slowly, shifting his arm for the millionth time to keep it from cramping up or going to sleep from Francis' hold.

Francis gave an enthusiastic nod, his curl molding into a heart as his eyes shined.

Matthew smiled a little at how cute that made him look before sighing and cracking open the book, turning around to glance at the window seat before asking, "Can we read by the window, at least? That's something I've always dreamed of - reading on a window ledge." He should probably stop giving in to Francis' requests sometimes... But he just couldn't help it - he always looked so sad.

Francis gave an excited nod and took him over to the window ledge, nuzzling Matthew's arm. The blonde then went over to his bookshelf and brought back a stack of picture books, giving Matthew even more pleading looks to read them all to him.

". . . Francis..." Matthew started, slumping over dejectedly as he sat down on the window. "I can't read _all _of those to you... Pick _three_." He felt like a mother scolding their child as he said that... which he supposed was fitting for how the Frenchman was acting.

Francis gave him a childish pout and huffed, blowing his hair out of his face and rummaging through the stack. Picking out three, he handed them over to Matthew, and then... Slipped in a fourth, the Frog Prince.

"Hey, I said three," Matthew told him, rolling his eyes. "I know you can count."

Francis pouted more and kept holding it out, giving Matthew a challenging look. Furrowing his brow, he stuck out his tongue and refused to put the book back.

Shaking his head, Matthew just put one of the other books back. "I said three, Francis. And when I say _three_, I mean_ three_."

Sitting beside Matthew, the blonde rolled his eyes, giving him a look that said, "I don't believe you!"

Matthew poked him between the eyes and stuck his tongue out at him. "Fine then, I just won't read any to you if you're going to be like that."

Giving him a pleading look, his curl shifted into a bent shape and he squeezed Matthew's arm.

Chuckling slightly at him, he opened Rapunzel up again. "Okay, okay - hold on, I'll read it to you."

Francis' eyes lit up and he hugged Matthew, gazing down at the book happily.

"Once upon a time," Matthew began, smiling, "there was..." as he continued reading, he couldn't help but find it amusing how attentive Francis was to him. The look made him start doing various voices for each of the the characters, and acting very dramatic as he quoted the pages. He had always loved getting into the part, even if it was for a book and not a play.

Once he finished the book, Francis clapped, hugging Matthew tightly after he did so and nuzzling his waist happily.

Blushing slightly from the affection, Matthew laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head. "Glad you liked it..."

Francis nodded vigorously and pointed to the second one.

Matthew sighed a little before picking up the next one. "All right... what's this one, anyways?"

Francis raised a brow and pointed at the title, showing Matthew it was the story of Cinderella.

"Wow, you really like fairy tales, huh?" Matthew asked as he opened it up and skimmed through it. "I heard the original Grimm Tales version of this is bloody, though - the sisters actually cut off parts of their foot to fit the slipper on."

Francis gave an innocent grin and pointed out that that was, indeed, the version he had picked out.

Blowing his bangs out of his eyes, Matthew frowned. "Oh great, more blood..." He was about to start reading when he heard a tap on the window. Looking out, he saw that it was Lily. "Oh, hello there," he greeted the flower, smiling. "Do you want to come in?" He giggled as he saw the flower bob her bud in an almost excited manner, opening the glass immediately and watching with fascination as she slithered in. "I'm afraid our prince can't talk right now, Lily."

Francis saw the flower and hugged her gently, letting out silent giggles as she tickled his face with her roots and nuzzled his cheek with her bud.

Giggling, Matthew opened Cinderella again and began reading the story for two people now. He had a little trouble when he got to the blood part, though, but thankfully it wasn't that descriptive.

Once it finished, Lilly nuzzled Matthew's cheek and made a sucking type motion on his cheek, like a vacuum. He just laughed before taking her gently by her stem and kissing the top of her petals softly. "Thanks, I'm glad you liked it."

She seemed flustered, and bowed her bud, her stem wagging like a dog's tail.

Matthew laughed at her actions, feeling a weird sort of happiness bubble up inside him. "I thought you liked the prince?" he asked teasingly.

Francis gave them both a jealous look, blushing at Matthew when he did so, and turned, crossing his arms and pouting.

Matthew sighed when he saw Francis being obstinate. "Oh, come on - what are you mad about now?"

Francis pointed at his cheeks and gave a huff, glaring up at Matthew and feeling dejected.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Matthew said, sighing. "You're jealous of a _flower?_"

Nodding, Francis turned away from him more and stuck his nose up into the air, giving a "hmph!"

Matthew shook his head before leaning forward and giving him a small kiss on the cheek. "The things I do for you..."

Francis smiled cheerfully, and kissed both of Matthew's cheeks, nuzzling his face and then giving him an eskimo kiss.  
Lilly wrapped around his head and gave a pantomimed sigh of sorts, nuzzling the childish boy's head.

The other boy just sighed as he picked up the third book, The Frog Prince. "I've never actually read this one," Matthew explained as he skimmed it over.

Francis squeezed his waist in excitement and rested his head on Matthew's shoulder, curl wiggling.

Matthew sighed as he began reading the story, finding it very fascinating. He had always thought the story entailed a princess kissing the frog to turn him back, but in this a princess just had to have the frogged prince eat off her plate and sleep in her bed for three nights!

"Well, that was interesting," he commented as he finished. "The princess is a little shallow though - liking him after he turns into a handsome prince and getting married right away like that..."

Francis gave a nod of agreement, shooting the princess a distrustful look and then sticking out his tongue.

Matthew chuckled at his response before shutting the book and yawning. "Why am _I_ the one who's tired? You're the one who should be sleepy since I just read to you."

Francis gave an amused look, nuzzling Matthew's neck and tugging his arm.

Matthew patted him on the back, sighing slightly. "Why are you so full of energy..."

His legs fluttered and he shrugged, cocking his head and smiling cheerfully with his eyes closed.

Matthew stared at him and, for some reason, the notion to kiss him right then popped into his mind...

Blushing incredibly red, Matthew stood up and walked over to the bed, pretending to straighten it. "He, this bed was a little wrinkly!-!" he said as he shook his head mentally, telling himself that the only reason that thought came to him was because Francis had kissed him earlier, so it was on the brain. Not to mention all of the fairy tales he had just read - they had obviously influenced him as well!

Francis opened his eyes and gave him an amused look. Standing up, he stripped himself of his clothes and went over to the closet nonchalantly, looking for something to wear. Which greatly surprised Matthew when he turned around and saw what he was wearing - or lack thereof.

"For Pete's sake, Francis!" the boy exclaimed, covering his eyes. "Why!?"

Francis whipped around and shrugged, grinning and then turning back to his rummaging.

Realizing that Francis couldn't, or wouldn't, say anything, Matthew sighed before deciding to just lay on the bed, face buried into the pillow. "Just nudge me when you're clothed, okay?" he said, his voice being muffled by the pillow.

Francis smirked more and took out a lacy corset that came with a lacy white robe. Putting the corset on, he tied the robe and twirled around, laughing and then gasping in surprise as he heard his own voice once again.

Matthew just smiled into the pillow, still not looking up since he wasn't sure if Francis would be clothed or not. "Finally! Ariel speaks!"

"Hey! I am much more pretty than that Danish mermaid!" Francis pouted, putting his hands on his hips and glaring at Matthew. Both of his actions were lost on the Canadian, though, since he was still laying into the bed.

"Well, I don't know..." Matthew teased. "I've always had a thing for red hair..." he lied, laughing to himself.

Francis growled and warned, feeling jealous, "I'll run about without clothes if you keep this up."

Matthew groaned. "Please don't... and I was joking, by the way."

Francis grinned and laughed, replying, "As was I, and besides, this underdress like outfit is hard to undo anyways."

"Oh, you're dressed now?" Matthew asked before lifting his head and inspecting. "Huh, not bad... how many fancy clothes do you have in that closet?"

"A lot," Francis replied, stringing a curl of his hair around his finger and shifting the robe a bit so Matthew could see the fancy corset, "I've lived awhile and received many gifts, oui?"

Matthew stood up and picked up a bit of the robe, tilting his head curiously. "I suppose. How long do you think this took to make?" He smiled slightly as he felt the lace more. "It's really soft, too."

"Well, considering it goes down like a dress train, and is meant for a ballgown around..." Francis pondered for a moment, closing his eyes and then opening them cheerfully, "The 1870's, it probably took two weeks."

"Wow, that's nice someone made that for you." He chuckled a bit before asking, "You really do like women's clothing, huh?"

Blushing slightly, he looked down and nodded, "I've always had a love for a variety of clothing - especially costumes I would see in operas," Francis looked back up nostalgically, "And women's clothing always attracted my attention from how loud, yet graceful it was." His face then contorted to one of dislike, "Except for fashions now. Ick, why aren't the women wearing their corsets?!"

Matthew let out a loud laugh, holding his chest in. "M-most women consider corsets t-torture devices, now!" He wiped at his eyes, since a few happy tears had leaked out. "But you're right, they should wear more clothes."

Francis gave a disbelieving look and asked, "I thought they did like them? You know, for the thinner waist!"

Matthew shook his head. "That would make sense... but now girls just don't care, or they don't eat to get a thin waist. Which is stupid, I've always thought."

Francis gave a disapproving look and threw his hands up in the air, "That is horrible! Eating in my time was considered a sign of the rich - a sign you were blessed with money!"

Matthew sighed and sat back down on the bed. "I know... the world's lot different, Francis, and some of it doesn't make sense."

Francis sat beside him, and cocked his head, "How so? Is it those "tans" everyone has? Tanning was considered the mark of a peasant in my time as well," he gazed down at his pale skin fondly, "And pale skin was a mark of the wealthy."

"Well, now tan skin means that you're cool, for some reason..." he shrugged. "I don't really understand some of the trends today either. Sometimes I wish I lived back in your time, but then I remember all of the cruel punishments..."

Francis gave a sheepish grin and rubbed the back of his neck, "Well... It was more... Harsh in England from what I heard. If you stole bread, you would be hanged..."

Grimacing, Matthew laid down and curled up, yawning again. "I mean, stealing is wrong and everything..." he started, closing his eyes, "But you don't have to go so far..."

Francis nodded, then pondered something for a moment and replied, "True! And I just remembered something!" He prodded Matthew, grinning, "Did you know the first working parachute was invented in France?! So was braile!"

Matthew smiled lightly at him. "That's great! A nice accomplishment for the country of love."

Blushing slightly, feeling his appreciation for his homeland bubbling inside him, he replied, "So is the longest road located in Canada."

Giggling slightly, Matthew looked up at him with a warm smile, "Why do you know that?"

Giggling as well, he ran his hands through his hair and replied, "I like to read various trivia books~"

"Well, thanks for knowing it," Matthew said as he yawned again. "Oh, I can't be tired - I still have sword-training later..."

Francis gave him a sympathetic look and replied, petting Matthew's head, "I know, but you had to put up with me, which is well..." Looking away, he coughed, "Draining..."

Smiling sheepishly, Matthew had to agree. "Yeah... it kind of is. But that's all right, I guess."

Francis snickered and flicked Matthew's forehead, "Oh, but you love me~"

Matthew smiled slightly. "Oh, I do?"

Francis blushed slightly and then nodded firmly, folding his arms and turning his head up haughtily, "Oui! You do!"

Matthew laughed and asked in an airy voice, "And what makes you say that?"

"Because, I look wonderful in a tutu?" Francis turned and suggested curiously, putting a hand to his chin and pondering said statement.

Matthew let out a long laugh, cradling his stomach as he sat up, sitting on his legs. "Don't try it - _please_ - it's already hard to take you seriously every day."

"Non! It is not!" Francis objected, crossing his arms, "And I would look nice!"

Sighing, Matthew stood up and started walking out the door, patting Lilly on the tops of her petals before saying, "Whatever you say, Francis. I'm going to take a walk to wake myself up before training."

Francis smirked and then ran, climbing onto Matthew's back and holding on, demanding, "Then you shall take me also!"

Matthew almost buckled from the unexpected weight, but luckily Francis was pretty light. Instead, he just wrapped his arms around his legs to hold onto him better, almost as a reflex. Sighing, he just kept walking. "You're such a child..."

"Good! It keeps me young!" Francis replied, giggling and wrapping his arms around Matthew's neck and shoulders while resting his head upon the Canadian's own, "And you're a decent pack mule!"

Scowling slightly, Matthew threatened, "Call me that again and I'll drop you."

Holding on more, Francis gave a yelp and apologized quickly, "Non! Non! I'm sorry, you're a fantastic, handsome steed!"

Matthew smiled slightly at the correction before shaking his head. "I guess that's better..."

"Who will earn an apple and some oats if he doesn't drop me!" Francis added, smiling cheekily.

Matthew snorted with laughter, having to stop so that he wouldn't fall from the contractions. "Oh wow, great incentive," he said sarcastically before remembering something. "Oh! That reminds me - I still have to pick up the seal fat for Kumi!-!" He frowned as he looked around the hallway, "Where is he, anyways..."

Francis shrugged, looked about and replied, "Good question..."

"Well, hopefully he's hanging out with Ignacious or something..." sighing sadly, Matthew looked down. "I really am a horrible pet owner..."

Francis flicked his head and argued, "Non! You are preoccupied!"

"I know, but still... I should at least check in on him."

Francis nodded and guessed, "Um, you could check the kitchen!"

"Yeah, might as well..." Matthew said as he turned around and started walking back to their room. "... But what if he doesn't want to see me?"

"Well, I do not know, from what I've seen," Francis pondered, "From what I've seen, your bear doesn't seem to mind being on his own..."

"I suppose you're right, but you said he was mad at me for neglecting him once..."

"Mostly because he was hungry..." Francis muttered awkwardly, looking away.

"Really?" Matthew asked, pouting. "Kumi... come on. Think about something other than your stomach."

Francis giggled, nuzzling Matthew's head and letting his hair fall in front of the other's eyes, "I agree, though I don't blame him if you don't feed him enough~"

"What! I feed him enough!-!" Matthew denied, frowning as he moved Francis' hair out of his eyes. "I leave out a food bowl for him and fill it up every morning..."

"But not full of seal fat~" Francis replied, pushing his hair back in front of him with a cheeky grin.

"Francis, I can't see with your hair -" Matthew started, but he soon tripped from his loss of eyesight, falling down painfully, especially with Francis right on top of him.

Squealing, Francis rolled off of him and picked him up quickly, gazing down at Matthew with a terrified expression, "Mon bebe?! Are you alright?!"

"I'm fine," Matthew said, sighing. "Luckily it's not the first time I've fallen with a child on my back."

Staring down at him, Francis asked angrily, "A child?!"

Blinking, Matthew replied sheepishly, "Uh, I mean... a person..."

Glaring intensly, he tossed Matthew onto the bed and yelled, "Jerk!"

Matthew fell onto it with an "Oomph!" before lifting his head to look at him. "But I thought you said it was good to be a child so you'd stay young..."

Stopping in his potential rage, Francis looked at him and muttered, "Ohhh..."

Matthew sat up and smiled weakly at him. "Yeah... so you're not mad, then?"

Francis smiled and shook his head, closing his eyes cheerfully, "Non. I'm ballistic."

". . . Huh?"

Francis burst out into laughter and jumped onto the bed, beginning to tickle Matthew furiously, "Just kidding! Le sike as I have heard once!"

Matthew started laughing atrociously, desperately trying to cover up his abdomen and squirming around to stop the laugh-inducing torture. "Fr-Francis! Please, st-stop!-!"

"Non~" the blonde sang, tickling him more.

Matthew tried pushing his hands away, but they were too persistent. "C-come on!-!" he yelled, howling with laughter, "I can't b-breathe!"

"Good! Because you are cruel to me, Matthieu!" Francis replied triumphantly.

"I-I'm sorry!" Matthew screamed in delight, starting to go red since it was getting harder and harder to take in as much oxygen as he needed. "Pl-please!-! Stop!"

Francis released him with a smirk, and whispered, "And that is why you should wear a corset~"

Breathing heavily, Matthew stuck his tongue out at him, a decent amount of red on his face now. "I'm not a girl!"

Blushing slightly as well, Francis mumbled, "Neither am I..."

Taking a deep breath, Matthew sat up and smiled at him. "Duh, I know that," he grinned for a minute before starting to tickle Francis as well. "Payback!"

Francis wiggled and began to giggle hysterically, squirming and trying to get away as he laughed, "Non! N-Non stop!"

Matthew laughed at him before pushing him down onto the bed. "Nope!" he said cheerfully.

Flailing his legs, Francis squirmed more and objected, "Meanie!"

"You started it!" Matthew told him before sitting on his legs to keep them from moving. "You always have to get some sort of revenge, or start something! Don't you?"

Francis yelped and batted at him, face flushed, "Y-You're still a jerk!"

"And you're still an over-dramatic, moody drama queen," Matthew replied, sticking his tongue out at him and attacking him with more tickles.

"Good! Being dramatic is a way to relieve the soul! THE SOUL!" Francis cried out, clawing at Matthew's chest, "Now off!"

Chuckling Matthew stopped tickling him, but didn't get off of him. "Fiiine... but this isn't over," he said, sticking his tongue out with a wink.

Francis gave him a blank stare, (like how a cow looks at an oncoming train,) and asked slowly, "How... Isn't... It?"

"I still have to pay you back for all the past trouble and worry you've caused me," Matthew answered, shrugging. "But I'll probably forget about it before I do anything."

Francis just stared up into his eyes and blinked slowly till he and Matthew heard something:

The sound of thunder out of their window.

Screaming in terror, Francis writhed and began to sob furiously.

Surprised, Matthew said in a panic, "Francis! Calm down - it's just thunder!" He reached over to places his hands on his shoulders, trying to stop his thrashing since he was still sitting on him. "It's fine - we're inside."

"I-I'm afraid of lightning and thunder!" Francis screamed, clamping his eyes shut and squirming furiously, "D-Don't let it get me!"

"I won't," Matthew assured, frowning. "I promise, it won't hurt you..."

Francis continued to wiggle more, crying out in more fear, "Someone save me from the evil storms! They'll try and kill me!"

"Francis, calm down!" Matthew yelled, grabbing his face and forcing him to look at him. "I'm right here, okay? You'll be fine - the lightning is outside, and we're inside safe and sound. It's okay."

Sniffling, Francis stared up into his eyes, breathing heavily and whimpering slightly as he asked, "P-Promise?"

Smiling, Matthew nodded. "Of course. I may joke around a lot, but I won't ever lie to you, Francis."

Francis smiled softly, gazing deeply into Matthew's eyes and nodding, quickly hugging him and whispering, "T-Thanks..."

Matthew chuckled before laying next to Francis and hugging him back. "You're welcome."

Francis, looking into Matthew's eyes nervously, asked in a timid tone, "Um... Why do the clouds yell and make such terrible noises during storms? Are they angry?"

Matthew started laughing at just how much Francis didn't know. "have you gone through science classes for hundreds of years?!" he asked, still laughing.

Francis pouted and glared up at him, replying sheepishly, "O-Oui! But I do not understand thunder!"

Matthew laughed for a bit before saying, "It has something to do with negative and positively charged thingies..." He blushed slightly before admitting, "Okay, maybe I don't know much about it either... but it's not because they're angry."

"B-But their voices..." Francis whimpered, shivering and trying to wiggle his now numb legs.

Matthew chuckled and patted him on the head. "It's not "voices," it's just the sound coming from the lightning bolt. A lot of people are scared of them, though, so it's all right."

"R-Really?" Francis asked suspiciously, giving Matthew a look, "How can I know you are not," he breathed dramatically and yelled, "Lying!?"

"... Why did you say it like that?" Matthew muttered before rolling his eyes. "Because I don't lie. And it's true - I used to be afraid of them too until I grew out of it. My mom had to come in and rock me back to sleep."

Francis gave a pondering look and asked, blushing, "Well, then can you do that for me?"

Matthew stared at him for a second, rubbing the back of his head. "Well... I guess so," he said, for some reason his stomach tingling at the thought.

Francis gave an embarrassed look and then coughed, asking weakly, "Can you get off of me first? My legs a-are numb and I'm having problems breathing..."

Blushing, Matthew got off of him hurriedly, stammering apologies.

Laughing, Francis leaned in and gave him an eskimo kiss, before going over to the closet. With a surprising amount of flexibility, he began to unlace the back of his corset.

"Wow, you're used to that, aren't you?" Matthew asked, sitting back down on the bed.

Blushing, Francis nodded slowly and replied, "O-Oui... I would ask you b-but-"

"No, it's all right," Matthew said, shrugging and walking over to him. "I know how uncomfortable it is to tie and untie things behind your back - I'm surprised you could put it on so well!" He started unlacing him then, chuckling. "I'm glad you were hesitant though - it shows that you understand me, at least a little bit."

Blushing a bit more, Francis mumbled shyly, "Oui and... It's actually too close for me in terms of personal space..."

Matthew was surprised. "Really?! But..." creased his eyebrows together, thinking about all the times he's wanted to just walk around naked or be so close to the Canadian that sometimes he felt suffocated. "... that's odd..." he finished, having a little trouble with one of the ties.

"I-It's close to my rib cage, which is rather delicate..." Francis explained softly, letting out a pained noise as Matthew tugged on the tie, "Gentle Matthieu!"

"Sorry!" he yelled, biting his lip and tackling the knot more carefully. "And oh, I guess that makes sense..." he blushed a little when he caught sight of Francis' veins, remembering when he... Had traced almost all of them, and even kissed the heart of them...

What had been wrong with him that night?

"As a child, having anything bump into my sides too hard caused my ribs to bruise, so they have the chance of breaking easily..." Francis gave an uncomfortable squirm and whined, "So please get this thing off!"

Matthew sighed. "Knowing that, why did you even put it on in the first place?!" he asked, almost starting to scold him again. "I swear, half the things you do don't make any sense in the slightest."

"Because it's pretty..." Francis replied slowly, giving a look down at the floor and blushing, "And I like things that are pretty..."

Matthew smiled a little at his logic, shaking his head slightly as he finally undid them all. "You shouldn't wear something if it'll hurt you."

"But like I said, it looks nice and graceful..." Francis mumbled, glaring a hole in the floor.

Matthew laughed a bit, slipping the corset off of him. "Yes, but you look just fine without it, so you don't need it."

Blushing, Francis wrapped more of the robe around himself and mumbled, "No I don't..."

Matthew shook his head a little, smiling. "Yes, you do..." he tickled him slightly before walking over to the bed. "You're already nice and graceful, okay?"

Francis giggled slightly and nodded, tying the robe and going back over to their bed as well, replying, "Then you stay confident and handsome, oui?"

Matthew laughed and blushed slightly from the compliment, about to deny he was those things but then deciding... Why not just accept them? It was obvious he would just say more anyways if he didn't, so... "Heh, thanks," he finally said, smiling at him.

Francis smiled, wrapping his arms around Matthew's waist and announcing simply, "I crave something."

Tilting his head slightly and resisting the small urge to push Francis' arms away, he asked, "What's that?"

"Your cooking!" Francis looked up, smiling happily, "For once I am starving!"

Matthew laughed a little bit before sitting up and stretching. "All right, all right - what do you want?" Secretly he was just happy that Francis was eating, since he made it sound like he never ate.

Francis bounced up to a sitting position, giving a blank look as he pondered for a moment, "Um... I uh -" brows creasing in confusion, "I don't know..."

Matthew laughed before walking to the kitchen. "I'll make you a specialty," he said as he picked up a frying pan. However, when he turned around, lightning and thunder went off just as he said, "Pancakes!" which actually made him look a little scary.

Francis stared in horror and shivered, backing away from him before running around in panicked circles, yelling, "Merde! Merde!"

Matthew hurriedly walked over to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, "Francis! It's all right!" he tried explaining, even shaking him slightly.

Francis blinked and gave him a stare, trembling and then turning to the window, ranting at the lightning, "Evil demons! Away with thou!"

Matthew laughed at him for a bit before grabbing his hand and leading him to the kitchen. "Come on - come and help me make the pancakes, it'll take your mind off of the thunder."

Francis nodded determinedly, turning around and making a crude hand gesture at the window and then following him into the kitchen, muttering about evil lightning demons and soul sucking computers.

Matthew giggled to himself when he heard the topic of Francis' ramblings. "Lighten up, will you?" he said as he went to go get the ingredients for pancakes. "Get out a bowl, please. And a whisk if we have it, a spoon if we don't."

Francis nodded, lips childishly pursed into a scowl, as he went and got a whisk and a bowl, bringing it over to the counter and sighing.

"All right, we just need to mix these things together and - oh, stop acting like that," Matthew told him, rolling his eyes.

Scowling more, Francis folded his arms stubbornly and replied with a sniff, "Non~"

Sighing, Matthew started to make the pancakes, measuring out the flower. "If you do, I'll make the pancakes into the shape of a heart," he conditioned, grinning to himself.

Francis immediately stopped, curl wagging as he smiled warmly, "Alright then, mon amour~" he sang, bouncing happily.

Matthew laughed at him before asking, "All right then, do we have any heart-shaped molds? Otherwise I could try and make one out of a coat-hangers..." Matthew thought to himself for a minute, trying to figure out how exactly he could do that.

Francis cocked his head, before getting an idea. Running to their room, he came back with the coat hanger, now bent into the shape of a heart.  
"For you?" Francis asked, holding it out with a wondering smile.

Laughing again, he took the heart and did a little bow. "Why, thank you, princess," he said with a small chuckle, "these will be some thin pancakes, though."

Francis gave a smile, blushing slightly and curtsied, "Merci, mon roi~"

Matthew blinked at him, tilting his head to the side. "Roi?" he asked before turning back to the unmixed batter. "What does that mean?"

Francis' eyes lit up as he replied cheerfully, "It means king!"

"Oh, really?" Matthew asked, amusement in his tone. "Hmm... I don't know if I'm ready to take over a kingdom yet... I'm pretty sure I'm still just a prince."

Francis giggled slightly and asked, "Oh really? And why is that?"

"Because," Matthew said, turning to him and smiling sheepishly, "I'm... not really that confident to lead anyone."  
Francis pursed his lips and shook his head stubbornly, "Non! You are and shall one day!"

"Francis, there aren't kings anymore," Matthew told him with a laugh. "Except in England, I guess."

Still not deterred, he asked simply, "Canada has a king, oui?"

Shaking his head, he replied just as easily, "No, Prime Minister. It's a little bit different."

"No matter then!" Francis announced triumphantly, "We'll take over Quebec and make you it's king!"

Laughing, Matthew finally started mixing the actual batter. "I think that's taking it a bit far... I don't really want to be a king anyways."

"B-But I thought most young boys couldn't wait to be king..." Francis commented in a saddened tone.

Matthew smiled at him a bit as he whisked, "Well, back in the day maybe, but nowadays, people just want to live their life without too much responsibility."

Francis gave an annoyed look and shook his head, deciding, "Then I am forcing you to be King of the Canadian Geese."

"... King of the Canadian Geese?" Matthew asked, laughing. "What would I have them do?"

"Attack the British!" Francis decided with sparkling eyes.

Chuckling, Matthew commented, "You know, with your fascination with the British, it makes me wonder if you actually hate them."

Francis laughed and shook his head, replying, "Non, I just like making fun of them and their bland cooking."

Sticking his tongue out at him, Matthew turned the oven on and placed the pan over it. "Oh, all right. I hope this makeshift mold holds the batter."

Francis gave a determined nod, replying firmly, "It shall, because I said so!"

Laughing, Matthew placed the coat-hanger heart on the pan before slowly pouring the batter into it, sticking his tongue out a little in concentration. "I hope your words are that strong," he muttered, taking the bowl away as soon as the sticky batter touched the edges of the heart. He smiled a little when he saw it staying confined. "I guess they are - they'll still be really thin, though."

"Bien!" Francis declared happily, bending over and kissing Matthew's cheek, "Then they are crepes!"

Matthew didn't even seem to notice the small show of affection as his eyes lit up. "Ooh! Then we'll need to make a sauce!"

"Hmm, well, more like berries with a fruit type sauce~" Francis explained with an eager grin, "What berries shall I fetch?"

"Blueberries!" Matthew said, smiling excitedly. "They're my favorite! And then grab what your favorite fruit is as well."

"Oui!" Francis replied excitedly, giving a small dance of happiness, "I shall get those and some strawberries!"

"Ooh! Great combination," Matthew said, laughing before flipping the crepe over. "This thing's so thin that it probably doesn't need to cook on the other side," he said before picking it up with a spatula and carrying it like that over to the cupboard to grab a plate to place it on.

In a flash, Matthew noticed Francis had the sauces and assorted berries ready to be put in the crepe.

"Great!" he said approvingly, nodding and placing the crepe down on a sort of decorative plate. "You make the sauce and I'll make the crepes, and then we'll have something tasty!"

Francis was about to when he noticed Matthew seemed to have batter on his face...

"Um, Matthieu," Francis started, trying to stifle his giggling as he gazed at the unsuspecting boy.

"Hm?" Matthew asked distractedly, carefully pouring another crepe into the thin heart frame.

Francis just snickered and came up to him, slowly kissing away the batter and licking some of it off him, blushing slightly as he did so.

He jumped back when Matthew accidentally tipped the bowl over and made an even bigger mess. "S-sorry!" he mumbled, blushing profusely as he ran around to go grab a washcloth and start cleaning it up off the floor and the stove. "M-my mistake..." Worrying his lip, he focused on the spilt batter on the ground, trying desperately not to think about... batter being _licked_ off of him!-! Why would someone do that!?

Francis broke out into giggling laughter as he gazed down at his skin, noting, "Even though that batter is burning my skin slightly, it feels cozy~"

"Sorry," Matthew said again, almost whining as he concentrated on cleaning still. "I... it was just a - a surprise, I guess..."

"Understandably, and for as to why I licked you," Francis gave a shrug and smiled, "psPerhaps you looked tasty~?"

Blushing more, Matthew slowly stood up to rinse out the washcloth. "I, I'm not..." he tried to say, turning the water on to drown out his much shyer voice, "t-tasty..."

"Non! Your skin doesn't have much salt on it! So it is tasty~" Francis replied in a song like tone, smirking as he thought of how Matthew would react.

He was not disappointed as he saw Matthew drop the washcloth, blushing even more and even starting to shake slightly. What was happening to him!? Francis regularly said things like that, it shouldn't bother him this much...

Then again, the other had never _licked him_ for crying out loud!-!

"R-really?" he squeaked out, clearing his throat before turning the water off and tending to the floor again. "Heh, I mean, it's just sk-skin..."

"It is your face, one of the most sensitive places on the body~" Francis sang, giving a gleeful expression.

Matthew sighed at how he never ceased to make him blush more before jumping up. "The crepe!" he yelled, running back to the stove and noting with dismay that it was burnt in some areas and all over the pan. "I've ruined it..." he muttered sadly before taking the spatula and trying to flip it over.

"Non, it is alright!" Francis comforted quickly, sounding guilty, "It is my ult fault you burnt them!"

Matthew blushed more, holding a hand up to where the batter had previously been. "... Yeah, I guess," he said, but he didn't sound that confident. He still tried to salvage the crepe, though, moving it over to the plate and sighing, thinking about all the batter he had just wasted.

Francis gazed down at it softly, and complimented, "Even if it is burnt, you put your emotions into it, oui?"

Matthew snorted a bit before laughing, covering his mouth as he did so. "Of course you'd say that," he said, laughing more as he turned the stove off and tried to clean up the rest of the batter. "I'll take the burnt one - but we still need our sauce, you know."

Suddenly, Matthew was whacked over the head with a spatula, receiving an angered response, "Do not mock my philosophy!"

Pouting at him, Matthew took the spatula back. "That wasn't philosophy... I don't know what that was," he smiled before saying, "An attempt to make me feel better - and it worked, so smile."

Narrowing his eyes, Francis gave an irate sigh and looked away unhappily.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Matthew asked, frowning. He was so happy just a few moments ago, torturing him...

"You think I am lying!" Francis snapped, narrowing his eyes more as he glared.

Matthew was a little shocked at just how mad Francis was. "Well... I just don't see how I could have put my emotions into it..." he started, blushing more and looking down, twiddling with his fingers. "I mean, the only thing I was feeling as I spilled the batter was..." he trailed off, not really sure what he had been feeling. Disbelief? Disgust? Or maybe an odd form of bubbly happiness...? An unheard of mixture of the three? He didn't know.

Francis blinked for a moment before giving a serene smile, closing his eyes and summing up, "You felt disappointed when you spilt the batter, then," his smiling widening as he added, "Happy when I licked your face~"

"Wh-what!" Matthew exclaimed, blushing more and hunching his shoulders a little, as if trying to shrink himself down. "No, I, I wasn't!-!" he denied, hugging himself.

Smirking, Francis retorted, "Non, your body language and temperature gave it away~" leaning in, he breathed on Matthew's neck and whispered, "Actions speak louder than words~"

Matthew shivered when he felt the other's hot, tickling breath blow down his neck, immediately holding a hand up to his neck as his temperature increased more. He didn't know what to say, since he knew Francis was right... but, but he still didn't understand why he reacted like that... He couldn't like Francis like that _already _- it was just on his mind. Yes, that was all...

"So tell me, Matthieu~" Francis continued, tone becoming smooth as he asked with closed, cheery eyes, "Are you secretly _infatuated_?"

"N-no way!-!" Matthew whispered fiercely, still blushing as he looked up into the other's face even if he couldn't see him right now. "I - I mean, anyone would act flustered after being l-licked..." Non, I disagree~" Francis replied slowly, smirk widening.

Matthew pouted at him now, turning away. "Name one person that wouldn't!" he insisted, crossing his arms.

"Me!" Francis laughed, clutching himself as he did so.

"Well..." Matthew started before sticking his tongue out at him childishly. "You don't count - you love people being close to you..."

"Which is a form of love~" Francis objected, playing with hair and grinning proudly, "Familiar to be precise."

"Familiar...?" Matthew asked, tilting his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"As in, between friends and family, in a platonic or affectionate manner so to speak~" Francis explained, a show of interest in his eyes.

"... You don't say?" Matthew asked, chuckling slightly. "Well, I suppose that makes sense."

"Oui, I hope it does..." Francis trailed off suddenly, gazing at the floor as if lost.

Matthew poked him in the shoulder, smiling and all previous embarrassment forgotten. "Well, anyways, let's finish our crepes full of emotion and love!" He giggled at the end of his sentence before signing a line of a song and walking over to the two crepes he had made.

Francis laughed as well and began to help him, making the sauce carefully and bringing it over to their freshly made crepes.

"Bon Appetite," Matthew said before spooning some of the sauce over his mess of a crepe. "I'm sure it'll taste good anyways! Right?"

"Oui!" Francis agreed enthusiastically, eyes shining as he blushed slightly and mumbled, "Because you made them, mon amour, and I truly appreciate that..."

Smiling kindly at him, Matthew said his thanks before taking a bite of his food. It really was good... the sauce, he felt, made it, though. "You did a great job on the sauce, Francis! I love it - the perfect blend."

Blushing slightly, he gave a slow nod, like a bow from where he sat, and replied, "As did you with the crepes. While a little burnt, are not overly sweet or salty."

"Hey, I gave you the un-burnt one!" Matthew said, sticking his tongue out childishly before laughing. "And thanks, I'm glad you like them."

Francis gave a soft smile and nodded, bending over and kissing Matthew's cheek, "Merci~"

Matthew laughed, and then they sat there and enjoyed a delicious, delightful evening together as they waited for the storm to pass. Sharing laughs and enjoying each other's company, it was no surprise that neither of them wanted it to end.

"And so I found this book in a library," Francis continued to explain, between snorting and giggling, "Called 112 Gripes about the French! It's hilarious!"

Matthew chuckled slightly. "Really? What did it say?"

"Supposedly, we don't bathe," Francis wrinkled his nose, an annoyed look on his face, "Who would ever think that?!"

Matthew let out a long laugh, managing to choke out, "I - I can't im-magine!"

Francis narrowed his eyes, and accused, "You believe the horrid Englishmen, don't you?!"

"No," Matthew said, grinning and shaking his head. "It's just... looking at you, and how much you pride yourself on how you look, that seems like the stupidest idea ever."

Francis gave a relieved look, nodding and smiling, "I know right?"

Matthew giggled again before taking the last bite of his crepe. "If only you could tell all those people back then how wrong they were."

Francis nodded, frowning slightly before giving a small smile, then explaining, "Oui. Then again, the Liberation of France in World War Two was a very stressful time for my people."

Frowning, Matthew sighed. "Yes, I suppose you're right..."

Shaking his head, Francis finished his crepe and then jumped up, announcing with a wink, "I'm going to go get a surprise for you~"

"Ah! Sounds nice!" Matthew said, smiling at him. "You didn't have to get anything for me, though!"

Francis gave a stern look and shook his head, insisting, "Non! I do!"

"... You really didn't," Matthew said, giggling before starting to clean up.

Pouting, Francis gave a huff and turned around, running into the bathroom, "I'll be out in fifteen minutes!"

"OH, really?" Matthew asked, laughing. "Don't you say something like that every morning?"

"Non!" Francis sang back, "I do not~ Now, be a dear and clean up the kitchen!"

"Already am!" Matthew called, sticking his tongue out even though he couldn't see him.

Eventually, after his promised fifteen minutes, Francis rushed back out with a dazzling smile to reveal: That his hair had been completely straightened, reaching all the way down past his tailbone and covering one eye because it was parted to the left. The train of hair looked silky, and almost cream blonde coloring to it as it flowed behind his friend gracefully.  
"Is this bien, Matthieu?" Francis asked, nervously wringing his hands together and peaking out from behind his hair with one eye, his stance timid, "It might not look the best..."

Matthew stared at him, his mouth dropping a bit. He looked very... pretty, honestly. "Yes, very much so," Matthew told him kindly. He almost felt like running his hands through the hair, it just looked so smooth and soft.

And as if he read his mind, Francis offered, "I-If you want to touch it, you can..."

Matthew chuckled a bit, remembering hearing those words before... "I... probably shouldn't," he said weakly, flashing a sheepish smile before turning back to the dishes. He really needed to stop sending Francis mixed messages, especially after.. him kissing him like that.

Francis gave a broken stare, his eyes watering as he sniffed, "It looks stringy, doesn't ti!"

"What!?" Matthew asked incredulously, turning around. Suddenly, he remembered why he kept sending him mixed messages... he took everything he said the wrong way anyways. "No! I just... don't really feel like it's, um, appropriate?"

Francis flailed dramatically and sobbed, "I do look terrible, then!"  
Unbeknownst to Matthew, Francis was secretly smirking and feeling victorious. He knew if he wanted to, he could manipulate his roommate into touching his hair, and well, thats what he wanted right now.  
And he wouldn't take no for an answer...

Matthew, completely unaware of Francis' acting, sighed and ran a hand through his own hair. "I didn't _say_ that!" he said, frowning. "Why do you always think you look terrible?! You look fine - _always!_ Okay! You look better than fine - you look amazing, so stop degrading yourself every time I don't want to do a specific thing!-!"

Cutting the crocodile tears, Francis asked excitedly, eyes shining, "Amazing?!"

Pausing slightly, Matthew cursed to himself as he realized that what he said could be taken the wrong way. But, since he had stopped crying, he decided to just go with it. "Well, that's what I said, oui?"

Matthew quickly found himself tackled onto a nearby couch in a flurry of hugs and kisses assaulting his face.

"Oh, merci, mon amour, merci!" Francis cooed between each kiss, grinning and laughing as he did so. If he noticed Matthew's extreme discomfort or how red his face was getting, he chose to ignore it.

"Fr-Francis!" Matthew tried to say, pushing at him, "P-please get off!"

"Non! I must reward my prince!" Francis declared, squeezing the poor boy and rubbing their faces together as he sang, "J'taime, J'taime, J'taime~!"

Matthew sighed and laid limp, smiling a little now. "Thanks..." he whispered, finding it hard to believe that he could feel so strongly for him in such a short period of time... He almost felt guilty for not feeling the same way, but he knew it was stupid to love someone purely out of guilt and nothing else...

"Matthieu," Francis asked suddenly, now just straddling the Canadian's waist and staring blankly, "Can I ask you a splendiferous question?"

Laughing a bit, Matthew replied, "Just for that word - yeah."

Francis grinned and replied simply, "Alright, do you think I would make a cute cat boy? Like in Alfred's special books?"

"... Cat boy?" Matthew asked, not really understanding the full meaning of the term or its origins. "Um... I guess so?" He tried imagining him wearing a catsuit, and figured that he probably would look cute in one of those. Why was he asking? Did he want to go trick-or-treating as a cat sometime...?

Francis suddenly whipped out a picture of an effeminate, slender boy with cat ears and a tail wearing only an apron and in... A rather compromising position and asked innocently, "Like one of these?"

Matthew stared at it for a minute before he went completely red. Turning away, he yelled, "I don't know!-! I've never thought about it!"Why the hell would he want to look like _that?!_

Francis giggled and continued to prod, "Don't you like the ears and tail? I know I do!"

"I-it's just...!" Matthew started, shaking his head. "It looks really b-bad! Ah., n-not that it _looks_ bad! The ears and tail I mean, it's more just... er, it's very..." he struggled to figure out a way to explain. "... suggestive...: It can be, uh, taken the wrong way...?"

Francis placed the picture down, right next to Matthew, and pressed his slender hands against his cheeks, almost as if he was squishing his own face, and asked in confusion, "Why is that?"

Matthew's eye started twitching as he turned to look at him. "Okay, I refuse to believe that you don't see it.."

Cocking his head innocently, Francis fluttered his lashes and squished his face more as he replied, "B-But I don't..."

"..." Matthew blinked a him for a minute before blushing even more. "You're serious?"

Francis nodded slowly, his straight hair bouncing as his lips formed a cat like curiosity, "Non, I don't get it..."

Sighing, Matthew laid down on the couch. "Okay, so you know how some people look at other's as just objects for pleasure? That... look, is kind of like that, er, I think..."

Francis blushed darkly and nodded, yet asked, "B-But it looks cute..." Giving Matthew a hopeless look, he took out a pair of fake cat ears from behind his back and placed said pair on his own head as he cocked his head more, and asked Matthew, "So isn't it just cute?"

Matthew stared up at him and the ears, smiling a bit as he took it all in. "Well, yes..." he admitted. The ears did make him look really cute and catlike, and like he was just a cute, innocent little animal. "I guess as long as you're clothed it's fine..."

Francis smiled, nodded and then cooing, "Meow~"

Blushing slightly, Matthew reached up a hand to pet him between the fake ears, laughing a little. "Your hair really is soft," he said before cursing himself again. Why was he always in these situations...

Francis grinned, nuzzling into his hand and replied, "Merci, mon ami~ Meoooow~"

Sighing slightly, Matthew sat up, patting him once more before standing up and stretching. "But anyways, back to the dishes I suppose - ah!"

Francis quickly wrapped his arms around Matthew's right thigh and refused to let go, smiling devilishly, "Non~"

"... Francis," Matthew started, blushing at where he was holding him. "Th-they have to get done..."

"But I feel lonely and want you to pet me~" Francis crooned, nuzzling Matthew's leg with a purr, "Because I'm _your cat~_"

… Matthew could suddenly understand the appeal of catboys.

They looked so innocent, so cute; they're humans, but they're also cats, which makes them belong to _you_... and makes you feel happy to know that such a creature is yours and yours alone.

Unfortunately, Matthew didn't really want that.

Laughing nervously, he petted him a little before trying to push him away. "You're not a cat, Francis..."

"What if I want to be a cat?" Francis inquired, tugging at Matthew's leg, "And only your cat?"

Looking away, Matthew blushed a little. "I don't really know if I want that responsibility..."

"At least feed me some tuna~?" Francis meowed. smirking inwardly at how flustered Matthew looked.

"... If we have any," Matthew whispered before beginning to walk towards the kitchen, though it was a little tricky with him being attached to his leg.

Luckily, Francis was clothed decently for once, wearing a maple leaf sweater of Matthew's and some thigh-high striped socks that were white and red, like candy canes. And a... Choker with a cat bell...  
Alright, this was getting pretty weird in Matthew's opinion...

"Francis, where did you get a cat bell choker?" he asked, sighing and placing a hand to his forehead. "How long have you been planning this?"

"Last night~" Francis purred, smirking more, "I went to Alfred and he gave the ears and bell necklace to me~"

Matthew felt his eye start twitching. "Of course he did..." Wasn't Alfred the one who told him that he didn't have to start kissing Francis right away, and just apologize to him and maintain their friendship...? Why the heck did he give him these things!-!

"He told me that it would make me look cute enough and help you keep your stress down~" Francis explained, meowing again and nuzzling Matthew's leg, "So of course I took them!"

"... How would it keep my stress down?" he asked quietly. If anything, it was only making his stress worse, since he'll admit that really did look very cute... Matthew had always liked animals, and he always wanted to just pick them up and snuggle with them. So with Francis looking like that... Well, it was like sending two very different signals to his head: one, he's Francis and he's already "in love with him" so he shouldn't be doing such romantic things towards him, and two: "OH MY GOSH IT'S A KITTY! Must hug~!"

… He hoped the first one continued to win.

Francis gazed up at him with big, innocent, azure eyes and asked curiously, "Because petting cats relieves stress, so if I'm a cat," Francis smiled softly, "Then I can relieve the stress I put on you all the time!"

Matthew paused slightly before turning to look at him. He was about to say that he didn't really cause him _that_ much stress, but faltered when he realized... he kind of did. "W-well..." he said instead. "Sometimes stress is a good thing..."

Francis gave a saddened look and shook his head, hair whipping back and forth, "Non, I know I cause the, "bad stress," non?"

Staring at him, Matthew laughed a bit nervously before petting him again. "I wouldn't say... uh..." he bit his lip, not really wanting to tell him that he did give him quite a lot of stress since he'd act all depressed afterwards... but he didn't want to lie either. "... I can handle it, though," he finally finished, smiling sheepishly.

Francis calmed considerably, sighing in relief and nuzzling into Matthew's head and mumbling softly, too soft for Matthew to understand.

"What was that?" Matthew asked, almost instinctively hugging him and placing one hand on the back of his head softly.

Francis blushed and trembled slightly, replying softly, "I-I said you're... S-So nice..."

Matthew smiled a little. "Thanks... I try," he said, wondering how many times he's said that already. "You're nice, too, you know."

"Well, and," Francis bit his bottom lip, then giggled slightly, placing a trembling hand on Matthew's chest, "I think you're acting incred-dibly handsome..."

Blushing a little, Matthew laughed, feeling very warm all of a sudden. "Ah, thanks?" He kept the thought that he wasn't that handsome to himself as he placed a hand on top of Francis', intending to push it away, but instead just keeping it there for reasons even he didn't know.

Francis blushed softly, making his creamy skin show an almost porcelain, rosy tone as he tilted his head and whispered, "Merci~"

Matthew blinked down at him, smiling softly before lifting a hand to caress his cheek. "Such a nice color..." he whispered to himself, almost as if he was transfixed by it. It wasn't just the color, though, it was how soft he felt, and how much it complimented the rest of his face and hair, and how warm he felt...

Francis giggled, asking a his hand shifted to caress Matthew's cheek as well, "Why is that? I'm only blushing~"

Chuckling, Matthew responded, "Yes, but it makes you look really cute..." he leaned forward and kissed his cheek before snapping himself out of it and taking a step back, laughing nervously. "Ah, sorry about that... I tend to, er, lose myself, sometimes, I guess?" And that much was true; he remembered going ice-skating on a pond once, and he had gotten so distracted by the beautiful cracks etched on the surface that he didn't even realize he was skating on thin ice. He might have died if his mother hadn't taken him off of there...

This distraction or "complete and utter transfixiation" seemed to be happening a lot more lately, though...

Francis blushed more and giggled, smirking inwardly as he noted to remember what Matthew had said and use it on him later. For now though, he would go easy on him as he asked, in the most adorable, innocent voice possible, "Mrrow~?"

Only, he didn't really know how positively adorable that sounded to Matthew. The poor boy blushed again, and before he could stop himself he wrapped him into a tight hug, smiling and not really saying anything, other than a small, high-pitched, happy sound. Francis sounded _so_ cute~! Just like a baby kitten!

Francis blushed more and smiled, purring and asking, "Is there anything I can do for you, mrrow~?"

"Just stay like this~" Matthew told him, positively gushing. He giggled a little before blushing and looking into his eyes. "Okay, yes, you could pull off being a cat boy..." He blushed a little more as he felt the urge to lean forward and kiss him again... But he managed not to.

Francis' eyes sparkled as he purred more, nuzzling Matthew's face and meowing some more, in between his barrage of purring.

Matthew giggled before hugging him tighter. "Do you still want tuna? Although tuna after crepes seems like a weird combination, to be honest..."

Francis nodded, purring more and smiling rather gracefully for a "cat," "Oui~ And could you feed it to me, mrrow~?"

Francis' purring was like a gentle, soothing lul to Matthew's ears, making him smile and look into his eyes again. "Why not~?" he said, giggling. "Maybe having a cat wouldn't be so bad..." he said quietly before walking to the kitchen, leading Francis by the hand.

Francis followed eagerly and gave a grateful mew. "Merci, Matthieu~" He sat down at the table and quickly adjusted something of his appearance, taking out a bottle from under the table and drinking what seemed to be an odd elixir in a suspicious bottle. When Matthew turned again, he watched as Francis yawned, revealing small, cute looking fangs.  
Somehow, he had a sneaking suspicion that Arthur and Alfred had just planned something against him...

"Francis," he asked slowly, raising an eyebrow. "Why do you have slightly longer fangs...?"

"Because I wanted to be a cat~" Francis meowed, licking his fangs and grinning, "Arthur made the fang potion for me~"

Groaning, Matthew held a hand up to his face. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say Alfred also planted cameras..." he trailed off before searching around the room for places the yaoi-obsessed boy could have hidden such devices.

Francis cocked his head and gave a bemused look, "R-really, mrrow?" He then yawned, licking his fangs again as his stomach rumbled, "I feel kind of sleepy... Mrrow..."

Sighing, Matthew left his search and walked back to Francis just as his cat ears fell off of his head, being replaced with... real ones... Oh no. "Francis, why would you do that!?" Matthew asked finally. "Why would you change yourself into a cat!"

Blinking curiously, he yawned, scratching at his ears. "Don't worry, I'm not going to be a full cat. My curse won't... Let... Me..." Suddenly, a bushy, elegant and fluffy long, white tail swung out and wrapped around Matthew's hand, "I'm not s-stupid..."

Matthew sighed a little as he pulled against the tail, still thinking about how nice it felt against his hand.

Francis gazed up at him, then began to meow longingly, sounding upset, "My stomach hurts! Why won't you feed me, you're my owner!" His tail and ear fur stood on end as his ears flattened against the sides of his head, said ears looking slightly large and bat like.

"Ah, sorry!" Matthew exclaimed apologetically before taking his hand out of the tail hold and walking over to the fridge. He felt bad now, remembering how he still hadn't bought seal fat for Kumajirou, either...

Suddenly it hit Matthew though, and his mind traced back to the end of Francis' loud exclamation as the words, _You're my owner!_ Played over and over in Matthew's head, causing him to freeze and stare at the wall in shock.

Why did Francis have that mindset? Well, he did suppose that potion could have affected his mind, what with the ears and tail and all... But still, would it really affect his mind that quickly? Didn't potions usually only change your appearance, anyhow?

"Wait, Francis," Matthew said, grabbing the tuna and walking back to him. "You're still a person... I'm not your "owner.""

"But I'm a cat!" Francis insisted, giving a frightened look as Matthew noticed the other male's pupils... had started looking more slender and feline like, "And you feed and take care of me! Not to mention brush me," he then gave Matthew a big show of watery, sorry-looking eyes, "Mrrow?"

"... Francis, I've never done those things," he said, frowning and creasing his eyebrows together. "Well, I guess I've fed you once, and I do try and make sure you're not hurt... but I've never brushed you, and you're still a person!-!"

"You brushed my head fur!" the cat like blonde insisted, his tone almost an impatient yowl, "And you've bathed me, which wasn't nice because the water is freezing, and you could have just licked me clean!"

"... Y-you were a human at that time, though," Matthew said, blushing from the "licked clean" comment. "And covered in blood..."

"Because I had fleas!" Francis growled, pouting and then staring at his tail. Cocking his head, he leaped out of the chair and started batting at his tail with a yowl, hissing at the appendage and chasing it.

"Stop!" Matthew called, grabbing his tail and scolding him slightly. "That's your tail! Don't abuse it like that!" It wasn't until after the words came out of his mouth that he realized how ridiculous they sounded...

Francis gazed up at him with an irate expression, tail twitching as he hissed, "But it's trying to betray me!"

"... How it is trying to betray you?" Matthew asked, groaning and reminded him to yell at Arthur later.

"It's tickling my whiskers!" Francis grumbled, pawing at his face which, thankfully, did not have whiskers, "And says I should claw up your favorite two leg furs!"

"... Please don't," Matthew muttered, sighing. "You should have never taken that potion..."

Francis' tail swished side to side as his ears shifted forward, showing how curious he was as he asked, "What, mrrow?"

Matthew shook his head before opening up the can of tuna. "Never mind, just eat your food and go to sleep, all right?" He needed to go see Arthur for an antidote, after all...

Francis pawed at Matthew impatiently, yowling, "Feed me, _master_!"

"You can feed yourself..." Matthew told him with a sigh before going to a drawer and grabbing a fork, handing it to him.

Francis pawed at the fork with caution, before hissing at hit, his fur standing on end as he pawed it away from him, growling. "It's evil!" Turning to Matthew, he meowed desperately, "_Please feed me!"_

"... With _what?!_" he asked, confused. He grabbed a spoon instead and took some of the tuna, holding it out to him. "Say ah...?"

Francis' eyes shined with glee as he purred, meowing and wrapping his lips around the spoon. Lapping up the tuna, his ears shifted and his tail swished happily.

Matthew sighed before sitting down and grabbing more tuna. "Holy guacamole, you sure are a handful..."

Francis nodded, his small, rough-looking pink tongue licking his fangs, and then his pale lips as he purred and meowed loudly, "Merci, mrrow~!"

Chuckling a little, Matthew held more tuna out to him. "Just eat your food, all right?" he asked softly. He did have to admit that Francis was cute like this, even if he was a little demanding. He was acting exactly like a cat, actually...

Purring more, he make a noise of glee as he bit down on the spoon and lapped up more tuna, tail practically wagging as he scratched at his ears. Francis' pale face seemed alive with a rosy glow as his eyes closed in pure contentment, his blonde lashes fluttering over his cheekbones. Which, unfortunately or perhaps fortunately, made him look even cuter to Matthew, who blushed slightly as he reached forward and petted him, smiling. "Aw, who's a good boy~?" he asked sweetly before laughing at himself.

Francis' lashes fluttered open as his clear, cerulean eyes shone alight with appreciation for his words, as he meowed back cheerfully, "Moi!"

Matthew giggled again before feeding him more tuna. "That's right, you are..." chuckling, he started scratching by one of his ears, since most cats usually liked that.

Francis purred as he took another bite of tuna, lapping it up happily with a loving smile. Nuzzling into Matthew's hand, he swallowed the tuna and then yawned sleepily, licking his fangs.

Eyes half lidded, he rubbed one lazily with a hand as his ears and tail twitched.  
"Matthieu..." Francis slurred, rubbing his eye more as his cheeks flushed slightly, lashes fluttering, "I-I'm swee-eepy..."

"Then let's put you to bed, shall we?" he said kindly before picking him up and carrying him over to the bed. He smiled when Francis nuzzled into him, meowing softly and yawning yet again as he closed his eyes. Who knew cats yawned so much? He wondered why he was so tired, though - was it just because of the potion?

Setting him down on the bed, he kissed the top of his forehead. "Sweet dreams, okay?"

Francis pawed at Matthew's arm sleepily, meowing softly, "W-Will you talk to eyebrow bastard?"

"Eyebrow bastard...?" Matthew echoed before remembering that he called Arthur that sometimes. "Ah, well, yes..." He smiled at him. "I mean, you being a cat is nice and all, but I think I like you better as a human."

Francis sleepily opened an eye, giving a nervous look as he asked, "Will I still be cute, mrrow?"

Laughing at his insecurity, Matthew pet him between his ears. "Yes, you will still be very cute," he assured, kissing his forehead again before standing up. "Now get some rest, I'll be back soon."

Francis nodded and curled up into a ball, clutching an old looking, velvet giraffe to his chest as he replied, closing his eyes, "Arthur the Valiant says you're lying..."

"Arthur the Valiant?" Matthew asked, frowning slightly. "Who's that? And I'm not lying..."

Francis shifted the velveteen giraffe up so that its glassy, black eyes were staring at Matthew eerily as he replied, "I own stuffed animals... Remember?"

_Where'd he get the giraffe?_ Matthew asked himself before saying, "Uh, actually, I've never seen your stuffed animals... but I'm telling you that you'll look cute when you're not a cat anymore, okay?"

Francis gave a small pout then nodded, closing his eyes more and falling asleep, breathing slowly and steadily in his curled up ball as his ears twitched.

Seeing that he was now sleeping, Matthew let out a breath of relief. _I swear_, he thought to himself as he walked towards the exit. _Arthur's going to pay for giving him that stupid potion... and Alfred, too, for giving him the idea in the first place! _Stepping out of his room and closing the door behind him, he frowned. Why did Francis feel like he had to change for him, anyways? He was fine just the way he was...

"I should probably tell him that some time," he said to himself before walking off to find his other two friends, figuring they're either in the library or in the dungeon. And if they aren't, well, he supposed he'd just walk around...

**Author's Note, TheGuardianKnux: Oooooo Yaoi cliches~ I can't wait till you all get to see even more of them~~~ :D**


	11. Confessions and Chastity

"And that's how that works~" Alfred sang saucily, his honey locks tearing themselves away from his body, formerly having been in a complex weave, and then wrapping into the form of a snake, slithering around the room while their witch smirked, "I can form my hair into a suit if I so wish to do so~ Cool eh?"

"Yes, very cool, Alfred," Arthur agreed, chuckling and rolling his eyes before they followed the hair snake's path. "You sound just like Francis with how much you pride yourself on your hair."

"Hey, mine's actually magical!" Alfred objected with a pout, making his hair shift back into a cat suit again. It wrapped around to expose some of his chest, were a mark like a, "Ying Yang," symbol was embedded into his chest, like an odd tattoo. It seemed very intricate, as shown by the eye it formed in the center.  
The hair was now shining more of a pale white, as did the witch's eyes. Alfred smirked as he slipped on a pair of white gloves and whistled, "Now I look hot~"

Arthur laughed a little. "Indeed," he said before they were interrupted by a very annoyed voice.

"Did you two give Francis the bright idea to turn into a cat?" Matthew asked, standing in front of them with arms akimbo. "And then did you actually give him the means to do so!?"

Alfred screamed, his hair falling limp as he fell flat on his face, uncovered rear in the air as his hair and eyes turned back to normal. Shaking, he yelled, "Go! Get out of here!"

Matthew was a little shocked, noticing how his hair had seemed to... _move_. "What the...?"

"Matthew," Arthur spoke up, standing in front of Alfred to block him a bit. "Perhaps now isn't the best time..."

"I'm a witch, God damn it, okay?!" Alfred yelled, struggling out of his pile of hair and letting it recede back to normal, in its usual short length as he glared at Matthew, clutching his glasses, "Is that why you're here!? Because you were suspicious?!"

"... What?" Matthew asked, frowning. "No! I'm here because Francis turned himself into a catboy!-!" he yelled before tilting his head curiously. "But you're a witch? Never would have guessed."

"That's what I thought, too," Arthur said, chuckling. "He doesn't really look very "witchy," now, does he?"

Alfred smirked and stood up, letting his hair roll out and wrap around his body, glowing white like a catsuit. Some of it shifted up to his head, morphing into a beehive like hair style that had long, odd looking ribbons wrapped in it. It seemed to represent a witch's hat, in the spectators' opinions. His cow lick and side swept bangs still remained though, as his hair and eyes glowed a silverish white. The rest of his hair created that catsuit, as said before, exposing the mark on his chest, while he slipped on a pair of stiletto boots and long, operatic gloves.  
He seemed to look more wicked, and witchy, as he placed his glasses back on and closed his eyes, opening them as blood flooded down from his eyes and on his cheeks, forming a trail of blood that seemed to be odd sort of markings.

Smirking more, Alfred cooed wickedly, using his false British accent, "Am I a witch now, love~?"

Arthur blinked up at him, surprised. "Er, yes, you do..." he said, taking it all in. This was his boyfriend now... as if he wasn't eccentric before. His British accent didn't even sound as lovely with that blood trickling down his eyes. "Please turn back to normal, dear?"

Laughing, almost manically, Alfred snapped, "I want to hear what this little crumpet here," he pointed at Matthew with a gloved hand, yawning and narrowing his eyes with a larger smirk, "Has to say about what _we_ supposedly did." Stepping forward, he challenged with a bark, "Well?! You have challenged an Umbra Witch, so please, tell me why you have!"

Shaking, Matthew looked up at him with fear. It was so strange... usually the boy created such happy, carefree vibes, but now he just looked downright creepy. "I, uh..." he said in a quiet voice, cringing slightly. What was he doing? He shouldn't be acting like this... it was just Alfred!

… But he couldn't really believe that as he kept looking at the boy's cruel smirk, and his glowing suit, and those eyes that dripped dark, sticky blood...

"I said, speak, _dear~_" Alfred cooed viciously, swinging a leg up and pointing a gun attached to his foot at Matthew's head, "You don't want to make me shoot, do you~?"

"Alfred!" Arthur said, eyes widening at him. "Don't you think you're taking things a bit too far?! He already said why he's here, after all..." He couldn't believe he was acting this way - towards _Matthew_ for crying out loud! The boy had to deal with enough already without handling Alfred's crazed shenanigans as well...

Suddenly the gun swung and aimed at Arthur, as "he" snarled, "Who are you calling Alfred?! Quit talking about my stupid host! I am the glorious Queen Sheba of Inferno!"

Arthur narrowed his eyes at this "queen" before taking a defensive stance. "What have you done with him!" he asked, thinking that "Queen Sheba" must be one of the demons supposedly taking refuge inside of his beloved's hair. Either that, or he was really getting into his role-playing... but even Alfred doesn't use real guns for that!

"I am using him to kill a potential threat to my pawn, you weak, insignificant human trash!" the demon answered, hissing at Arthur and cocking the gun against his neck, "And that bearer of light," she jabbed a thumb at Matthew and continued, "Could try and hurt my excellency! And the soul I am biding time to consume!"

Arthur's eyes widened. Did she mean that... she was consuming Alfred's soul!? But... but he made it sound like _he_ controlled the demons, and fed them other souls... that couldn't be it, right? "Well," Arthur finally said clearing his throat before glaring at the witch, despite the gun at his neck. "Matthew will do no such thing! So just go back to wherever you came from so we can have a normal conversation!-!"

Smirking, the demon leaned in and whispered cruelly, "Human, I can feel your love for my pathetic vessel and soul holder. And I find it very amusing~"

Clenching his fists, Arthur yelled, "Of course you would - since you've probably never loved a single thing in your pathetic life!" He knew immediately that it was a bad idea to yell at a demonic spirit with a gun, but what's said is said and can't be taken back...

The spirit laughed, leaning in and kissing Arthur's face, much to his displeasure. "You realize when he dies, I shall consume this soul, who must kill and feed us demons, and then damn him and his whole entire family to Inferno or "Hell" as you humans call it?"

"... No," Arthur said quietly, feeling his anger disappear as he imagined Alfred being torn apart by ferocious demons of all sorts. "No, I... I didn't..." Why didn't Alfred tell him any of these things? Did he not want him to know? He would have found out eventually!-! He closed his eyes as he felt tears build behind them, grinding his teeth when he heard the demon laugh at him.

The demon stroked his face thoughtfully and cooed, "What? You don't think his painful screams are delicious~?"

"You're sick," Arthur spat. Although what did he expect from a creature from hell? "Just go away already..."

"Nah, I'd rather tease you like your precious, little "Alfy," does," she spat, slapping Arthur and forcing him to fall to the ground, "I enjoy your pain and sorrow~"

Arthur lay on the ground weakly, that attack seeming to have drained most of his energy. He tried to sit up, but fell back down, settling for glaring at it instead, but before he could say anything:

"Stop it!" Matthew finally got enough courage to yell. He walked forward, even though he was terrified of the being in front of him. "Go away...!"

The demon screamed, and began shooting in fear at Matthew when a barrier of light formed in front of the boy, incinerating the bullets.

Surprised, he stared at the shield with wide eyes, suddenly being filled with turned his focus back to Sheba, yelling, "I don't care who you are, just get out of Alfred!"

"You-"  
"I said, leave," a young sounding voice yelled, making everyone stare in surprise:  
In front of Matthew stood what seemed to be a little girl with long, wavy blonde hair and big, cerulean eyes. She was dressed in a white gown, with wings made of light floating to her sides and a halo above her head. Upon her chest, an outline of a glowing heart could be seen. Glaring up, the small child declared, "I command you to leave my Matthieu alone!"

Matthew stared at the girl with his jaw dropped, wondering where she had come from, and why she was protecting him...

The demon snarled, demanding, "What is a soul shard like you doing protecting this spineless, worthless huma - wait!" the demon began to shoot, screaming and yelling, "You're that infernal cursed one, are you not!?"

"Cursed I may be, infernal I am not," she said seriously, waving a hand to block the bullets effortlessly. "I'm afraid that job description is yours."

The demon began to write, feeling bullets in her skin as she screamed. Clutching her skin, the vessel's eyes began to bleed more as she screamed, till the body's hair began to turn back to a sandy color and unweaved itself, and the screaming continued to echo.  
The girl, turning to Matthew, hugged him tightly and cooed, "You're safe, mon amour~"

A wave of memories surged in Matthew's brain, reminding him of the only other person who ever called him that... "Francis...?" he whispered as he hugged her back, noticing that she was incredibly light, almost as if she wasn't there at all. Yet, he could still feel her arms around him... how did that work?

The girl giggled,and moved so she was gazing into Matthew's eyes, nodding, "Oui, that is the name of the soul I am usually attached to~"

"... Why are you here, then...?" Matthew asked, staring into her with wonder, catching her glistening wings out of the corner of his eyes. They looked amazing... everything about her shined with radiance and warmth. Just like the person she belonged to, only ten times stronger.

"Remember when he first kissed you?" She asked kindly, wrapping her small, pudgy arms around his neck and placing her cherub face in the crook of his neck, continuing, "And the times after that?"

"... Yes," Matthew said, blushing and smiling slightly despite himself. "You... came from those?"

"I am the love he is giving to you, every hour, on the hour - a part of his soul, if you will," the girl explained softly, hugging him close, "I am the pure love he has for you."

Speechless, Matthew tried to analyze that. Francis... he loved him so much that part of his soul was going into him, laying dormant inside him...? Protecting him? Loving him? He started to feel tears come to his eyes as he hugged her back tightly, closing his eyes. He couldn't believe it... how could someone love him so much?!

"So, merci," she sang softly, kissing his cheek and nuzzling it afterwards, "For letting me protect you as I have been chosen to do so."

"No, thank you..." Matthew whispered, smiling even as tears started going down his cheeks. "for protecting me in the first place..."

Opening her eyes, she asked simply, "Then will you please protect my host?"

"Of course I will," Matthew said, nodding and wiping at his eyes. "It's the least I could do for him at this point..." He stared at her happily, starting to see Francis in her features and laughing.

The girl gave a giggle and smiled childishly, announcing, "Then I, Angelus, thank you."

Laughing more, Matthew made a little bow. "And I, Matthew, thank you as well..." his eyes softened as he said quietly, "Along with Francis..."

Giggling a melodic sounding giggle, she began to fade back into him as she reached up upon tiptoe and kissed his nose softly, whispering, "J'taime, Papa Matthieu~"

The truly loved boy just stood there, smiling, as she disappeared back into his own heart. He wiped at his eyes again, an almost choked laugh escaping him before he placed his right hand over his heart, closing his eyes.

Suddenly, soft crying alerted him as his eyes whipped open. Looking down, he watched as a small boy, who looked exactly like Alfred, ran up to Arthur and hugged his arm, beginning to sob. Matthew ran over, kneeling down and staring at Arthur. "Oh no..." he was bleeding profusely from his cheek; that slap must have been worse than he had thought... "Arthur, are you awake?" He felt his blood run cold as Arthur didn't even do anything; his face remained passive and calm, while his body lay still like a corpse...

The boy sobbed harder, pleading desperately, "Arthur! Arthur! Wake up, its me, Alfwed!"

Unfortunately, the British boy just continued to lay there, bleeding and unconscious... Matthew took a deep breath before picking him up and looking down at Alfred, er, who he supposed was Alfred... he couldn't really think about what had happened to him, though, since Arthur was the main priority right now. "Quick, let's take him to the nurse."

"No! Lemme see him!" Alfred begged, jumping up and tugging on Matthew's sleeve. "I know what to do!"

Matthew nodded. "All right..." he set him down again, biting his lip as the blood just kept coming and coming... "I hope you do it right..." he muttered before watching Alfred get to work.

He began to chant, summoning herbs and feeding them to Arthur. Running over, he took some glass bottles and beakers and began to make mysterious liquids in them with the herbs he was summoning as he continued to chant. Eventually, after a while, Alfred was ready. Gazing down at his hand, he lifted it and nipped his finger, letting it bleed into the elixir.

Now that it seemed all ready, Alfred went over to Arthur and parted his lips, feeding him the whole potion as his chanting got louder as he finished loudly, "EMNA OL!"

After a few moments, Arthur's index finger gave a slight twitch, making Matthew and Alfred stare at him even more intensely as before. After a few more seconds, his breathing became visible again, filling the two watching him with expectant hope. Then, his hand moved, his foot shifted, and he kept on making small movements like that until eventually his eyes started to open, though they were glazed over and dark.

"A-Arthur?" Alfred begged hopefully, his small, childlike hands clutching one of the Brit's tightly, "Pwease wake up?"

Arthur groaned a little as his head slipped over to look at him. Blinking slowly, he didn't appear to see him at first, but as he kept blinking his eyes progressively turned back to their normal green color, the light of realization soon reaching them. "A...lf...red?" he whispered, the sound coming out scratchy and unused.

"Yes! It's me! Alfwed!" Alfred sobbed, hugging Arthur's arm as tears leaked in a flood for him, "I'm rweally, rweally sorwee!"

Arthur tried to sit up, but cried out in pain, holding a hand up to his face. "What... happened?" he asked as if each sylable caused him to ache and hurt.

"My host demon pwossesed me!" Alfred's high pitched, child voice exclaimed as his cherub face shown with fear, guilt, stress, and worry, "And I hurteds you, except it wasn't me!"

Arthur stared down at him dimly, reaching a shaking hand out to stroke his cheek. 'It's all right, Alfred..." he whispered, smiling slightly.

The child sobbed furiously, insisting, "No! I'm bad! I'm bad and I should burn in Inferno! I don't deserve you!"

"Don't say that!" Arthur yelled, immediately wincing as pain barraged his head, cheek, and chest. "You shouldn't... _burn _anywhere, and you do deserve me... we've been over this, already..."

"But I hurteds you and couldn't pwotect you!" Alfred objected, sobbing more as he stamped the ground in a tantrum, "I'm bad!"

"No..." Arthur muttered, turning his head once to either side since it hurt too much to shake his head any further. "You're good, Alfred... so good... it was your demon, not you... you didn't hurt me."

"But I am bwound to my demon!" Alfred insisted, shaking as his child like body continued to cling to Arthur.

Arthur smiled at him weakly. "It's still not your fault..." he took a deep, shallow breath before forcing himself to sit up, crying out again and clutching his aching chest. He didn't get it... she slapped him, why did his chest hurt so much?

Alfred gasped and wrapped his arms around Arthur's chest gently. His hair unwrapping, it moved and turned needle sharp, stabbing Arthur's skin as Alfred called out, "YULCI!"  
Suddenly, the needles were gone and Arthur felt all the pain and weakness in his body disperse, as if he had been given a shot of an antidote.

Turning to the small boy, he blinked at him, taking a deep breath just to make sure there was no lingering pain. He smiled when it felt just like normal. "See?" he said, hugging him. "You did a fine job of healing me, so thank you... there's no harm done."

Alfred stared up at him with watering ,disbelieving eyes as he asked, with Arthur noticing for the first time that his boyfriend had been reverted into the form of his five year old self, "Rweally?"

"... Yes, really," Arthur said before looking into his eyes. "Alfred, why are you so small...?"

Alfred sniffled, hugging Arthur and explaining, "It's a side effect of da pwossestion!"

Staring at him, Arthur let out a small laugh. "Will the transformations of your body never cease?" he asked, amused. "First a woman, now a child?"

"Woman?" Matthew asked, tilting his head to the side. Neither of them seemed to hear him, though.

Alfred blushed darkly and yelled, "Arthur! Dat isn't funny!"

"Really? Because I'm laughing," Arthur said, continuing to laugh as he stood up, picking him up and spinning him around in the air. "I forgot how cute you looked as a child."

"K-Knock it off, Artie!" Alfred protested, squirming and pouting, his chubby cheeks tinted with a rose hue, "I'm not cwute! I'm cool!"

Chuckling a bit, Arthur cradled him against his chest like a baby, having the boy sit down on one arm and using the other to support his back. "Oh, really? That's not my perception."

"Meanie-kins!" Alfred mumbled, nuzzling against Arthur's chest and punching at it softly, "Big, meanie-kins!"

Arthur laughed a bit before kissing the top of his head. "Oh yes, I'm so mean to you, aren't I?"

Remembering Matthew was there, Alfred whined, "Arthur! Not in fwon't of Matthwew!"

"There's nothing wrong with kissing your forehead in someone's presence," Arthur said, chuckling before turning to Matthew and smiling at him. "But hello there, I'm sorry you had to see all of that..."

"Ah, it's all right," Matthew said, smiling at him. "I'm glad you're okay, though..."

"So am I," Arthur agreed, sighing a little before smirking. "Oh, and you were here because of your new kitty, yes?"

Frowning a little, Matthew asked, "Why would you let him do that..."

"Hey, Alfred planted the idea in his head," Arthur said, chuckling and poking the young boy's pudgy belly.

Alfred squirmed and glared, protesting, "And because I thought Matthwew would kiss him if Fwancis was a sexy kitty cat!" Alfred then grinned proudly, trying to keep his glasses up with his small hands, since they were too big for him, "Wike in my Hentai mangas!"

… Both Arthur and Matthew thought that it was almost creepy to hear the word "Hentai" come out of such a young mouth...

Shaking his head, Matthew sighed. "I almost did..." he muttered, holding a hand up to his forehead, disappointed in himself. "And Alfred, that's the wrong way to generate love!"

"No it isn't! I had my fwiend Kiku dwa Arthur as a cat boy for me-" Alfred then clamped his mouth shut, blushing darkly as he stared up at Arthur, feeling a dark aura surround him suddenly.

"You did _what?!_" Arthur hissed, glaring at him. Never mind the fact that such things sounded completely wrong coming out of his five-year-old mouth, the fact that he had such degrading material drawn of him without his permission...! "How could you!" Arthur asked him harshly.

"W-Wait! It was a joke- before I fell in wuv with yooh!" Alfred insisted, beginning to cry as he trembled and hugged Arthur tightly, "I'm so sowee! I'll burn it! I'll tear it up, I pwomise!"

Arthur's anger slowly went away as he felt his sorry tears fall on his shoulders. Sighing, he hugged him back tightly with one arm, since the other was still supporting him. "All right, thank you..." He figured there wasn't that much harm in it... after all, it sounded like he didn't exactly look at it or anything.

_It's a good thing he doesn't know its taped to the inside of my pillow..._ Alfred thought, his anxiety begging to ebb away till he stiffened, realizing something: Arthur could hear his thoughts.

"Oh... Biscuts!" Alfred "swore" aloud as he stared in fear, "Our minds have bonded!"

"I noticed," Arthur said, his eye twitching in anger again. He set him down on the floor before standing imposingly above him, his hands on his hips. "That's it, young man, I'm confiscating all of your mangas! Every single one!-!"

Matthew laughed a little as Alfred stared up at him in shock, thinking it was funny how Arthur almost seemed like a parental figure now that Alfred was so small.

Beggining to throw a fit, Alfred declared and sobbed, "I'll devour your swoul! I will I will I will! Dose are mine!" he yelled, his tantrum increasing, "Yooh can't have dem!"

"Alfred, calm down!" Arthur yelled at him, grabbing his hands and forcing them to stay by his sides. "This is what you get for holding such filthy books!"

Alfred began to sob more, thrashing as Arthur picked him up and hauled him over his shoulder like a sack. Small feet began to kick, as did fists, as Alfred objected loudly, "Dere mine! All mine! Mine, mine, mine, mine!"

Arthur sighed as he walked over to Matthew, balancing Alfred over his shoulder. He tried to give him a calm smile, though there was nothing "calm" about him with the thrashing five year old over his shoulder. "If you'll excuse us, I think we have a few matters to solve..." he reached into his pocket before taking out a small vile. "I figured you'd be back, so here's the antidote. Good luck getting him to drink it - cat's are a little finicky about medicine..."

"Thanks," Matthew said, taking the bottle gratefully, laughing on the inside at Alfred. His tantrum had progressively gotten worse and worse, enforcing the picture of him being Arthur's little brother or something. "Good luck to you, as well."

"Thanks," Arthur said, rolling his eyes as he glared at Alfred, shifting him violently. "Oi! Stop complaining!"

"I will destwoy yooh!" Alfred screamed, kicking furiously and trying to claw at Arthur, "Mine mine mine mine MINE!"

"For God's sake, Alfred - compose yourself!" Arthur said, walking forward with Matthew close behind. "I swear, if you keep acting like this I won't get you _anything_ for your birthday."

Matthew laughed at the threat, covering his mouth quickly. Was it just him, or was Arthur taking this new "parent' role all too well?

Alfred glared at Matthew, with pure venom, as he yelled, "I aweady own you, Arthur! What moore do I neededs!?"

Arthur froze for a bit before taking him back down, holding him against his chest, and smiling at him. "Aw, do you really love me that much~?"

"Yes! More than all the Hentai and cosplay, and pocky, and yaoi, and yuri, and manga, and body pillows of yooh I own!" Alfred declared, rubbing his eyes and sniffling.

Arthur chuckled a bit, ignoring that last item and shivering on the inside. Nuzzling his face, he said sweetly, "Then can you please do the very small task of getting rid of all the material you own of me, since you already have the real thing?"

Alfred sniffled, and asked stubbornly, "But what about when yooh is gones!?"

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked, frowning. "I'm not leaving..."

Alfred sniffled and hugged Arthur, replying, "B-but what if yooh died before me when we gwow old together?"

Freezing again, Arthur remembered what that one demon said, about her devouring Alfred's soul when he died... Shaking his head slightly, Arthur smiled at him, deciding that right now wasn't the time to ask about that... "Then be content with the memories..." he said, smiling. "The happy memories we'll have made as we grow, and the ones we've already made..." he chuckled a bit. "I certainly am already."

Alfred's gaze brightened as he smiled, giggling and hugging Arthur tightly, replying, "I wuv yooh, Arthur!"  
_I'm keeping them for collectors purposes~_ Alfred's mind sang in amusement, which unfortunately, Arthur could hear.

"I heard that, you know," he said, eye twitching. "And I refuse to have such materials made of me any longer," he told him sternly before frowning sadly and looking down. "Aren't I enough...?"

Alfred squeaked in horror and hugged Arthur tightly, crying, "Yooh are enough! Yooh are, yooh are! I don't neededs dem den!"

Chuckling slightly, Arthur hugged him, finding that he kind of liked holding a child in his arms... "Thank you, Alfy... that's nice to hear."

Matthew stared at the two with a smile, sighing happily. Those two looked like such a good pair... He slipped away quietly, deciding to leave them to their own devices since he had what he came to find them for anyways. Francis would probably wake up soon, anyways.

And speaking of which, if he woke up alone, wouldn't he... Flip out?

_Oui~_ a soft, airy, angelic voice in the back of his mind answered, sounding like Angelus, _He... Would..._

It took Matthew all of two seconds to imagine the sobbing and or angry state he would be in before he bolted down the hallways, cursing under his breath. He shouldn't have checked the library first!

Matthew ran into their dorm room almost in a panic, panting as he slammed it behind him. "Francis!" he called before running into the bedroom, sighing in relief when he saw said staring up at him and rubbing one eye sleepily... Except from a pile of skewed blankets on the floor... "Uh, did you sleep well...?" Matthew asked, smiling.

"For being alone for the first time in ages, oui, surprisingly I did," Francis mumbled slightly, ears flattened against his head as he sighed, "Except I fell off the bed in my sleep..."

"Oh, I'm sorry..." Matthew said, walking up to him. He seemed a little off, though... it was probably just the cat part of him talking. "Here, uh, drink this," Matthew said, handing him the bottle Arthur had given him.

Francis wrinkled his nose and asked simply, "What is it?"

"It's, uh..." Matthew started. If he told him it would turn him back to normal, he probably wouldn't drink it... "It'll make you even cuter," Matthew said instead, smiling brightly at him.

Francis' eyes narrowed and his tail twitched, asking suspiciously, "Really?"

"Yep!" Matthew assured, nodding his head and continuing to smile at him. "Arthur promised me it would work. So..." he kissed Francis' cheek before holding it out to him, "Please drink it...?"

Blushing, Francis stared deeply into his eyes and replied slowly, "Alright... But on one condition."

"What is it?" Matthew asked softly, tilting his head a little.

"You have to go on a date," Francis explained, staring at him evenly and stutteringly slightly, a rosy blush painting his porceilian cheeks, "With me."

"... What?" Matthew asked hollowly, blushing, his ears starting to ring. "I... I've never gone on a date before..." he said, thinking about all of the date sequences he had seen on TV and picturing him and Francis in any of those situations. It didn't help that he could see the blonde "cat boy" in a nice dress for half of them...

He started slowly shaking his head though. "... I'm sorry, Francis," he said, frowning. "I... I just think that'd be cruel to you..." If he agreed, that's like giving him hope... hope that Matthew felt the same, strong, pure love for him. He had already hurt Francis once before, he didn't want to do it again.

"I won't drink it till you say yes!" the blonde announced firmly, giving a hurt glare and turning around stubbornly with a huff. His tail bent slightly and fur on end, his ears pressed against his head as his tail began to lash. From what Matthew could see, the boy's pale body was developing a blush all upon its contours...

Sighing, Matthew ran a hand through his hair. "Francis, usually two people go on a date if... they like each other, as more than just friends..." he frowned before shaking his head. "I don't want to hurt you again like that..."

"I want my candle light dinner and musical number!" Francis demanded, upturning a nose to the air and hugging the bottle tightly to his chest as he hugged himself, "And only with you, on a date!"

Starting to get frustrated, he asked quietly, "Don't you think it'd be mean to take you on a date when I don't... feel the same way as you...?"

"C-Can't it be a friendship date?!" Francis stammered, blushing more and feeling hurt tears appear in his eyes as he swallowed, trembling.

Looking at the state he was in, Matthew sighed. "Francis..." he said, looking at him pitifully. He was about to say something more when he remembered what Alfred had said once...

"_Have you ever thought of what it would be like to love something, so much, with all your heart and never have that returned back for you... Especially if you're always alone?"_

Staring up at Francis ptifully again, imagining all of the pain he must have suffered over all the years, he gave in. "All right... I'll go on a date with you, Francis... but only as friends, okay?"

He heard a _wooosh~_ as an empty bottle was flung out the window while Francis tackled Matthew into an excited, laughing hug, "Oui! Oui! Merci, Matthieu, Merci!"

Smiling a little, Matthew hugged him back. "Yeah, yeah..." he said, already feeling that this date thing was going to end up badly...

.. Well, who knows? Maybe he'd have fun. Although he had never heard of just friends going on a date before... he wasn't exactly sure how it was supposed to work. He wanted a candlelit dinner, but the romance would be missing since they weren't, well, a couple... so what did he expect from this date? What did he want from it?

Evidently he wasn't going to get his answer as Francis babbled, "What kind of dress should I wear!? And how should I do my hair, and should I wear high heeled shoes or should I-"

"Francis," Matthew interrupted, placing a hand over his mouth. "Just dress casually... You really don't have to dress up. I didn't pack any fancy clothes, anyways." He smiled a little before adding, "Besides, you'll look beautiful in anything, all right?" He said that mainly so he'd stop fussing over his outfit, but he really did mean what he said, too.

Francis furrowed his brows and licked Matthew's hand, in an attempt to remove it.

"Yuck!" Matthew exclaimed, taking his hand away and wiping it on his clothes, grimacing a little. "That's highly unsanitary, Francis..."

"But you taste like maple syrup~" Francis whined, pouting and giving a hurt look, "And I needed to tell you something!"

"Okay, what is it?" Matthew asked, remembering how he had said something like that earlier and had then ended up changing himself into a cat...

"I'm going to make matching outfits for us!" Francis announced firmly, giving a determined look as he hugged Matthew tightly.

Matthew stared at him for a bit before hugging back. "Um, all right..." he said, "I guess I won't stop you. Just nothing too embarrassing, all right?"

"It will have tons of ruffles, and mine will have pantyhose and a garter belt!" Francis explained cheerily, hugging Matthew tighter and almost drooling, "You'll wear the nicest tights with your pantaloons~"

"... Um, no..." Matthew said, sighing a little. "Make it more casual..."

"That _is_ casual," Francis objected, smirking, "For the fifteenth century~ Which I have lived in~"

Rolling his eyes, Matthew said with a grin, "If you make me dress fifteenth-century-casual, then you have to watch one movie with me..."

Cocking his head, Francis asked innocently, his face glowing a healthy flush as his cerulean eyes danced, "What is it, Matthieu?"

Chuckling a bit, Matthew said, "You have to watch one of my favorite movies from the soul-suckng television, if you make me dress like that."

Francis froze, staring with dilated pupils. Matthew watched as the blush seemed to slink away from his body, like a slithering snake, to what he presumed was the rose-shaped mark on his chest as he asked shakily, "W-What movie is it?"

Thinking for a minute, Matthew smiled. "Lés Miserables."

Squealing in happiness, the peculiar flush that seemed to have a mind of its own slithered back up, coloring the blonde's pale features once more as his oceanic eyes danced, his pale lashes fluttering almost in a daze, "Merci! It is beautiful! Perfect!"

Matthew laughed. "I thought you hated television?" he asked amusedly. He figured that he might appreciate the French-based film... and since he was going to make him watch a film from a device he hated, he might as well make it something close to home.

Fluttering his lashes, Francis cooed softly in appreciation, "But I'll be watching it with you~"

… Well, Matthew really hadn't thought that one through...

He laughed a bit nervously. "Ah, I guess you will be..." That wasn't what he had been getting at at all... he just didn't want to wear such a frilly outfit. But since he was going to watch it anyways, that backfired as well.

He watched as rose-pink colored lips kissed his cheek in appreciation, making Matthew blush as he realized something: Was it him, or did it seem as though he was noticing smaller details about his roommate in a slightly unsettling way? As if every little detail about him began to ring out in Matthew's mind... Such as the color of his skin, eyes, hair and... _Lips?!_

"Er, y-you know what?" Matthew said suddenly, standing up and laughing even more nervously as he waved his hands around. "I think I still have sword training to do! Ha, what time is it? It must be after school already..."

"It's only two thirty..." Francis replied, cocking his head, his pale brows furrowed in - God, he really needed to stop noticing these little details about Francis all of a sudden! And why was his h-heart pounding!?

"Oh..." Matthew replied, turning away and putting his hands together. "Well, ah... maybe I should get a little bit of independent practice in, then..." He was hoping the outside air could help clear his mind, and maybe rid himself of his new-and-improved vision...

Francis got up and tackled him into a hug, grinning and declaring, "Non! I, a royal, command you to stay!"

Blushing, he tried to get out of his hold. "B-but...! I'm not that good at sword fighting, and I have to protect you, don't I?" he asked as his heart still sped up and he felt goosebumps appear wherever Francis placed his slender, ivory arms.

… He needed to get out of there, _now!_

Either choosing not to notice his desperation, or actually not sensing it, the blonde dragged him back and insisted firmly, "Nope~ You don't have practice till four thirty today~" Francis ended said statement with a purr, making Matthew stiffen as he sensed the French boy smirking darkly, "I made arrangements in your schedule, so I could strip you down and take _measurements~_"

Matthew paled before flushing immensely, imagining those delicate hands tracing all over his - _gah! STOP!_

"I-I already know my m-measurements!" Matthew whined pathetically, still trying to get out of the Frenchman's tight grasp.

"Ah, but not in the Metric system, which is French~" Francis purred, dragging Matthew further into their bedroom and over towards a closet, "More importantly, _I don't~_"

"Th-the conversion is easy!-!" Matthew yelled desperately, "and I could just tell you!"

"I want to make sure _I know~_" Francis sang, tugging and dragging Matthew into the closet with him, stepping in front of him and locking the door as they got inside.

"P-PERVERT!" Matthew yelled as a last defense, blushing and closing his eyes.

Francis gave a frustrated huff, arguing smoothly, "Am not~ I just needed to move us into a bigger room~" Matthew felt a hand brush against his lower back till his spine hit a lever of sorts. Feeling Francis' fingers move up his back slowly, he heard the other boy, "Ah-ha!" till he grasped the lever and pulled it.  
Immediately, they were sucked down a slide-like chute of terror that had Matthew screaming for his life.

Francis, on the other hand, laughed in glee, yelling, "WHOOOOO HOOOO!"

"YOU'RE CRAZY!" Matthew yelled at him as he clinged to the happy boy's shirt in fear.

Francis looked at him hysterically, and yelled back, "I HOPE I GRABBED THE RIGHT LEVER! OTHERWISE, WE'LL END UP IN THE INCINERATOR!"

"WHAT!?" Matthew screamed at him, clinging tighter. "Francis! I can actually die, you know!-!"

"Nah, just kidding!" Francis yelled back with glee, like a child on a water slide, "WE'LL JUST END UP IN A THE TAFFY PULLER ROOM THAT HAS A MOOSE BREAKING WALNUTS!"

Matthew stared up at him, his jaw dropped as he buried his head in his chest and prayed that he was just kidding.

"OR WAS IT THE LARGE CROISSANT ROOM WITH ALLIGATORS I INSTALLED!?" Francis questioned, still yelling loudly as they continued to speed down the water slide, towards a dark tunnel, "OH NEVER MIND! HERE COMES THE FUN PART!"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN _FUN PART?!_" Matthew yelled as he looked ahead, eyes shining with fearful anticipation.

Suddenly they were sucked into the dark tube, which glowed brightly with rainbow, disco strobe lights and began to play Seventies disco music.  
_Fly robin fly! Up, up to the sky!_ the stereo system in the tunnel began thundering, as Francis sang along, suffering from a laughing fit in between.

He didn't seem to notice the shaking boy that was still clamped tightly to him. "Th-that wasn't f-f-funny, Francis!-!"

"BUT IT IS!" the blonde continued to yell, between snorts and giggles and chortles, "JUST WAIT TILL WE GET TO ESCALATOR WORLD!"

"What the hell are you talking about now!?" Matthew asked, looking up at him and appearing almost like a scared little animal with his wide, glistening eyes and trembling lip. He was still reliving that terrifying ride over in his mind...

"DUH, THIS PLACE IS A SECRET WATER SLIDE TO THE THEME PARK OF MY BASEMENT!" Francis yelled, as they zipped out of the tunnel, the side weaving around escalators that were randomly going up and down, seemingly endless and even starting from the ceiling, "IT'S ALMOST AS FUN AS THE PARTY IN MY PANTS!"

"How big is this school!" Matthew complained as they zipped along, destroying any laws of physics or logic on the way.

"AS BIG AS YOUR MIND AND SANITY DEEMS IT TO BE, SO IN MY OPINION -"  
Matthew blinked his eyes open, gasping in shock and lurching forward from the movement he was supposedly in, before he felt himself just standing, in the middle of a rounded, stone room with stain glass windows surrounding them. His breathing was fast and ragged as he looked around wildly, spotting Francis dressed in a simple, white night gown, smiling brightly. "You just hallucinated the slide after I closed your mind for a few minutes, mentally blinding you."

"... W-what?" he asked, shaking as he looked at the windows, thinking to himself how that had been escalators just a few minutes ago. Swallowing, he said, "But... it all looked so..."

"Real?" Francis - wait, no, this wasn't Francis... This was-  
The boy had the same hair, but one of his eyes was lavender... And his curl looked exactly like Matthew's, yet-

Was it the two mixed together?

Matthew began to stare as this... _Person_ explained, "It's as real as your mind simulates it to be~"

Blinking at him, Matthew rubbed his eyes, slitting them as he continued to look at him. "So how can I know when I'm back to reality?"

"When the drug Mama gave you, _Papa_," the person answered, closing their eyes happily and continuing with a cheery smile, "Wears off... If it was a drug, personally, even I'm confused."

Groaning, Matthew sat down on the floor and cradled his head. "I'm not following any of this... who are you, anyways?"

"I am the son of you and Francis, sir~" the boy replied smoothly, sitting down beside Matthew with a grin, "Which is what your mind imagined me to be, probably because you love him~"

Blushing, Matthew snapped, "I do not!"

"If you were to have a child, you would name him Philippe, which is my name~" the French Canadian grinned, almost feline like, as Matthew felt his vision forcefully swirling to images of Francis and him having children, their "Mother" wearing maternity clothing, and various pictures of the blonde in other womens' clothing assaulted his vision, along with a warm feeling of content and happiness...

Shaking his head as he felt himself getting warmer, Matthew mumbled, "But... I never thought about this before...! I don't... love him..." he looked at his "child" with a completely lost expression. "... Do I?"

"Well, in your subconscious," his "child," opened his eyes with a smirk, and answered, "Oui, you do, which is why I exist in your mind, along with the presences of Angelus."

"She's here, too?" Matthew asked, smiling slightly and blushing bright pink. That girl who represented such pure love... she was here?

"Right here!" She called, running and tackling Matthew down to the floor and laughing, "I'm always with you, Matthieu!"

Matthew laughed as he hugged her back, sighing happily as he looked up to the ceiling. "How did I get here...?"

Noting the ceiling was just a mass of black stars, she answered sweetly, "Like I said, I'm always around, even up in your head! Once I sensed where you were, I came up here, _Papa~_"

"Papa..." Matthew repeated before groaning. "That's why I imagined a love child with Francis..." He blushed a little at what he said before turning to Philippe. "Um, so... how long have you been alive?"

"Ever since she arrived in you," he replied dismissively with a yawn, walking around the two in amusement, "I'm a part of Mama's soul from the second time he kissed your lips~"

Matthew blushed and stared at him for a little longer before closing his eyes and sitting up, sighing. "How do I know this isn't something someone else is making me imagine...?"

"Because, Papa, one plus one equals two!" Angelus insisted, giving Matthew a cute, yet determined look with her large, sky blue eyes.

"... I'm afraid I'm not following," Matthew said as he smiled at her sheepishly.

"Remember, it takes a Mama and a Papa to make a baby-" Philippe started with a humored smirk.

"Okay!" Matthew interrupted, looking extremely flustered now. "I - I got it!-!" He covered his face, groaning a little. "But that still doesn't make any sense - we're both boys..."

"Except, your mind has envisioned him as a girl before~" the preteen child sang.  
Said images flashed in front of Matthew's eyes, of Francis looking even more effeminate than usual, and one of him in a wedding gown beside himself, who was wearing a tuxedo-

Matthew groaned again before falling back to the ground, blushing even more and covering his face with his now-sweater-covered arms.. "I hate my mind sometimes..."

"Yeah, it can be a pain in the butt, especially when you imagine Mommy in "her" underwear-" Angelus added innocently, smiling obliviously without a care in the world as her blonde curls bounced.

"I-I haven't...!" Matthew started to say before blushing more and realizing that he probably had done that subconsciously... especially since said boy occasionally walked around without clothes.

And suddenly, nicer images of Francis smiling gracefully at him with a wreath of flowers upon his head flashed in his mind, causing his "children" to giggle. He even saw Philippe make a heart sign at Angelus before giggling even more.

"You two are awful..." Matthew complained before bringing his knees to his chest and holding them there. "Why am I here, anyway? Don't tell me it's to get me out of denial or something stupid like that..."

"Well, that's one thing you _could_ do," another, softer, calmer, young male voice, this one older than Angelus yet younger than Philippe added, stepping into the room, "And the other reason is that Mama pinched one of your nerves and knocked you out."

"... Why did he do that?" Matthew asked, looking up at him. "And who are you?"

Said boy was shorter than Philippe, looking about eight-years-old, and carrying a baby blanket with him. His hair was straight, and went down his back as well. His eyes were brown, and a long, straight curl ending in a heart protruded from his dirty blonde hair that parted in the middle. He also wore glasses similar to Matthew's, it seemed.

Walking up to Matthew, he bowed and replied, "My name is Rosaire Bonnefoy-Williams, your third child from your third kiss. As you can see," he gestured to his siblings, explaining carefully, "We are parts of Francis' soul, meant to protect you. Philippe is strength," said boy flexed his arms, smirking, "Angelus is pure love," the youngest of the trio smiled, and blew Matthew a kiss, "And I," Rosaire smiled softly, "Am courage. We are here to defend you at all costs, _Papa._"

Matthew stared at them all before feeling warmth well up in his core. "... Why are you all...?" he asked, even though he already had an idea of why they were there, exactly. "Francis sent you?"

"Oui!" they replied in unison, sounding like a choir of angels - no, _his_ angels!

… Wait...

"But why?" he asked, his childlike curiosity starting to come over him as he got down on all fours and started crawling towards them. "I mean, I get the protection thing I guess, but why did he send you to me in the first place? Does this happen all the time? And if he gave you to me, does he not have you anymore? And -"

He felt what seemed to be... A _fish_ smack him in the face as Philippe smirked, holding said aquatic animal and interrupting, "Stop while you're ahead, old man, and we'll explain~"

Matthew held a hand up to where the fish slapped him before standing up and snatching the fish from his hand. "Hey! You _are_ my child, you know! And you can't hit people with fish!" He huffed before crossing his arms and saying, "Now explain!"

Philippe took out another fish, a plastic, worn-looking one that seemed to act as a cuddly toy to his... _Son_, and answered, grinning, "Oui~ I can, when it comes to your idiot, hoser logic!"

"Why are you so rude!" Matthew yelled at him, eye twitching. "One more crack like that and I'll have to punish you."

Angelus gasped and cried worryingly, "Big brother, don't-"  
"Hoser!" said "rude" boy proclaimed, laughing as he ran away from Matthew... Which meant just running around in a circle because the room was circular...

Matthew smirked a bit before saying, "Philippe, you said this was my mind, right...?" He focused his eyes before imagining that the next stone brick his child stepped on would rise up and cause him to trip. He nodded with satisfaction when it did, and he quickly walked over and lifted him up into the air by the hand. "Bad boy! Don't go saying such mean things!" He thought for a minute, trying to think of a proper punishment for a child he didn't even know he had.

"Aw, thank you for being such a good father, mon amour~" a familiar voice cooed softly, making Matthew whip around and come to see the slightly translucent vision of his roommate... Who looked much older...

Sitting in the middle of the room, dressed in a large, extravagant, white dress with very long sleeves. His hair was braided together, down his front. He wore a wreath of flowers upon his head, his bangs hanging above and off of them, reaching down to the floor with his braids and accenting his graceful, regal face nicely. The rest of his hair, flowing down and piling on the floor along with more braids braided into braids, gave him an almost God like appearance of beauty, love and strength. Two large, glowing, translucent white wings stretched out and a halo floated above his head, as the soft, calming lull of the sea seemed to echo around the people in the room.  
"Mama!" the children gasped, running towards Francis, their mother, and snuggling him and his wings, while said appendages wrapped around the children as he chuckled warmly.

"Francis..." Matthew mumbled, staring at him in all his beauty and smiling. This was how he imagined Francis...? Ha, he was starting to think that he _was_ in love... Seeing him as a shining angel, with such extraordinary detail; what else could he be?

He walked towards Francis, smiling. "Nice to see you here..." he said quietly, chuckling a bit as he stared up into those friendly, deep, blue eyes that seemed to glimmer a silverish tint, like his hair at the moment.

Francis gave a proper, lady like chuckle and extended a gloved hand out to Matthew kindly, eyes shining with warmth, "I imagine you enjoy seeing a slightly familiar face once in awhile, non?"

"You have no idea..." Matthew said, laughing as he took the hand, ignoring the "knowing" looks his children gave him.

Francis closed his eyes, breathing deeply and smiling gently, before whispering to _their _children, "Shall we have him explain how he feels now?"  
"Oui! Mama!" Angelus cheered excitedly, hugging their mother's side and giggling.  
"Sure, then he won't be a cowardly hoser~" Philippe purred, smirking at Matthew in a feline like manner.  
"I don't see why not, Mother," Rosaire added, closing his bespeckled eyes thoughtfully.  
Francis extended his arms and shifted, hugging Matthew tightly and placing his head upon the teen, showing Matthew that he seemed to look practically twenty now...

Blushing, he buried his head into his chest. "Wh... what do you want me to say...?" he asked quietly, gripping his shirt and feeling incredibly small compared to him. He did feel extremely warm in his grasp, though...

"What are your feelings towards me and how do you feel about me?" Francis asked calmly, stroking Matthew's back with soft, slender fingers and placing a hand upon Matthew's forehead. Chuckling warmly, he gazed down with wise, aged eyes, "Go on, don't be shy, my love, I am only a part of your mind, am I not?"

Staring up at him, Matthew couldn't stop looking into his eyes. "... I guess," he whispered, feeling very light all of a sudden. "But, I... I don't even know..."

"Calm yourself," Francis advised, taking two fingers and closing Matthew's eyes gently, with the utmost care, "And think clearly."

Matthew's mind filled with black, initially, his senses being overfilled with a warm, radiating, lovely feeling, especially in his eyes and back, and wherever else Francis was. He smiled softly as he laid his head back into his chest, thinking about all of the good moments they had shared already... All of the laughs they've shared, all of the kisses they've had, and every single time Matthew just felt the urge to protect and embrace the poor boy... He thought about every time he had looked at Francis and thought of how beautiful he looked, and how recently he had wanted to kiss him out of his own free will...

… Was it possible to love someone in such a short time period, though?

_Suppose you were connected, like two people with a red string of fate, my love~ _Francis' voice echoed in his mind, as Matthew saw a red string in his darkened vision. _Two souls, tethered together so that the other one does not fall, like a boat to a dock~_

He laughed a little, hugging him tighter. A love that outlasted time and space, gender, and anything else the world could throw at him? Was it possible? He had always told himself it wasn't - that he could fall in love with anyone he wanted to...

But now, all of a sudden, he wanted to believe that this string theory was true... That Francis was who he belonged with, even if he himself didn't know it or want to admit it. That ever since he was born a red string was attached to him, quietly leading him along to a happy ending...

_Knowing I, and you knowing I as well, _Francis explained, his voice overflowing with mirth, _I would tell you wholeheartedly that there is no one I could ever fall in love with except you. But, that does not matter unless... You tell me if you believe in this red string or not._

"... You know, Francis," Matthew said, looking up and smiling fondly at his anglicized roommate. "I think I do..."

He watched as aged eyes opened up calmly, tears gracefully spilling out of him and down his cheeks as he nodded, asking softly, _What shall you do, then? Do you love me?_

Matthew bit his lip, looking down in thought for a minute, making everyone wait in anticipation... and then:

"Yes..."

It came out as no more than a whisper, and he wasn't even sure if he had said it out loud.

"Yes," he said again, this time a little louder as he looked up and smiled at him again, tears forming on the edges of his eyes and warmth burrowing up from his heart to his head.

"Yes!" he said one last time, just to make sure he had said it. Laughing at himself, he wiped his tears, telling himself he was incredibly stupid for feeling so sappy and in love for someone he's only known for less than a week...

But love is unpredictable, non? Or something like that, as he imagined Francis would say. And he was probably right...

Wasn't this proof?

He felt arms wrap tightly around him, even more as Francis chuckled warmly, "I'm so proud of you, my love."

Scoffing a little, he hugged him back. "For what?"

"Getting out of denial~"

Laughing a little, he said softly, "Only in my mind, though..."

"Oh, you will physically, I know," Francis soothed, leaning down and kissing Matthew upon the lips gently, "You're a brave, young boy, my dear~"

Matthew stared at him, eyes half-lidded and a smile plastered onto his face. "You keep saying that... but I'm really not." He leaned forward and kissed him, blushing slightly, especially when he heard their children snickering in the background.

"Finally, the hoser grew a pair-"

Philippe shut up as Francis' hair wrapped around his neck and choked him gently.

Noticing this out of the corner of his eyes, Matthew laughed into their kiss before burying his head in his neck, blushing more. "This is so weird..." he muttered, almost groaning again, but it was a happy sort of groan... like he couldn't believe this was happening, but he was pleased that it was anyways.

"Good point, seeing as those I am older than you, my love~" Francis purred, laughing and kissing Matthew gently again, pressing their lips together more, "But soon you'll get used to it with my physical self."

Matthew blushed more as his grip tightened around him. "I... I don't really know if I'll be able to..." he admitted quietly. He wasn't exactly used to all of this... this _love_.

He felt a gloved hand tousling the back of his hair as Francis pressed him close, deepening the kiss a tiny bit more, "Oh, you will~ I know you can~"

Matthew closed his eyes as he leaned into him more. "If you say so," he muttered, finding that he quite liked the warmth on his lips now...

He felt teeth gently nibble on his bottom lip slowly as Francis slid his tongue into his mouth, "I know so~"

Blushing more, Matthew pushed him away, laughing nervously. "P-please, not in front of our k-kids..." He held a hand up to his mouth, his lips still tingling from that gentle, pleasurable bite...

Francis smirked slightly and leaned close to Matthew's ear, asking, "Do you know how we'll have these children in the future?"

"No," he whispered, his eyes full of wonder, "How...?"

"Alfred will enchant me into a woman, three times later in life during our marriage so I may bear our children~" Francis explained, lips pressing softly against the side of the boy's face.

Matthew laughed a little, closing his eyes as he leaned into Francis' lips. "That sounds... weird, actually," he said, giggling.

"Only for me~" Francis giggled slightly, wrapping his arms around Matthew's waist, "And don't get me started about the morning sickness~"

Matthew laughed so hard that he snorted, immediately blushing and covering his mouth and nose with his hands. "How embarrassing..." he whimpered, closing his eyes.

"Only when you'll have to rock me to sleep and then press a hand to my stomach, asking if they're kicking yet-"  
"Mama!" Angelus groaned slightly, squirming in between Matthew and Francis with a pout, "We've heard you talk about this all the time!"

"All the time...? Matthew asked, looking up at him with a grin.

Francis blushed slightly, objecting softly, "N-Non... Not all the time..."

Chuckling, Matthew leaned in and kissed him again. "Why are you blushing?" he asked, laughing, "Aren't you a figment of my overactive imagination...?"

"N-Non, I'm a soul shard~" Francis explained softly, hugging Angelus between Matthew and him gently, "From the fourth kiss - one I gave you accidently in my sleep..."

"... Oh," Matthew said, staring up at him with amazement before smiling. "Well, then I'm glad..." he giggled before looking down at Angelus and patting her head. "And I can't wait to see you in the future, my little angel~"

She giggled, nodding and hugging him tightly. Francis laughed along with him, hugging Matthew as well. Philippe reluctantly came up and hugged Matthew also, resting his head on top of his father's, as Rosaire hugged Matthew's torso from behind.

"J'taime, Papa~" the children chorused softly, as Francis chuckled warmly.

"And I love you, my future husband~" Francis sang softly, kissing Matthew's forehead.

Matthew laughed, looking around at all of the beautiful people around him, and realizing... they were _his_. All his, his and _Francis', _and he couldn't be happier to know that... To know that they had been able to have such beautiful children, and be such a happy family...

They hugged together like that for a while, a warm pile, till Matthew felt tears land upon his face from the willowing, graceful male holding him.

"Why are you crying...?" Matthew asked, reaching up and wiping his tears away.

"I don't want this to end, but I know you'll have to go back to reality - to consciousness," Francis sniffled, gazing down at him with soft, warm, loving eyes, "I wish you could stay here with us~"

Matthew stared up at him, smiling sadly. "I wish so, too..." his eyes brightened as he asked, "Perhaps I could, in my dreams...?"

Francis nodded, smiling serenely, "I shall be waiting, my love, but," he frowned slightly, in concern, and asked, "Will you tell my physical self, that you-you-"

"I shall try," Matthew interrupted, smiling weakly.

Francis giggled, leaning down and kissing Matthew tenderly with a graceful smile, _Merci~_

With that, Matthew felt a silver chain that simply radiated pureness being wrapped around his neck. Looking down, he saw a heart made of winding silver. It looked as if the metal was shaped like a tree branch as nonlethal, glowing, rose-colored fire surrounded the heart, the charm hovering right above Matthew's heart.  
"A mood necklace - a piece of myself to take with you back into the "real" world," Francis explained softly, releasing Matthew's lips gently and smiling, eyes closing warmly, "So that you shall have the courage to admit your infatuation with me~"

Matthew blushed. "It's not infatuation..." he objected quietly, pouting. "You're the one infatuated..."

Francis giggled, stroking Matthew's cheeks, "You admitted, three times, that you love me~"

"... That's not infatuation..." Matthew said, frowning slightly. "That's just..."

Frowning, Francis asked in confusion, "Did I say the wrong word? Shall I substitute enamored instead?"

Matthew laughed a little before nodding. "That one sounds better, sure." He looked down at the charm around his neck fondly, asking, "Will it still be on fire when I wake up...?"

"Oui~ It shall, because your love burns deep in your heart for me~" Francis sang softly, while Philippe shifted and made pantomimed gagging motions.

"We're going to have to knock some manners into you, young man," Matthew scolded, sticking his tongue out at him before grinning and kissing the top of his head. "Or maybe you just need some attention?"

Philippe squealed, squirming while Francis gave a smirk and warned, "Does someone need a time out~?"

"I think he does," Matthew said, laughing and looking up at Francis with puppy dog eyes. "He called me a hoser, earlier..!"

Francis' eyes seemed to alight with a fire of vengeance as he asked lowly, the sea like sounds stopping suddenly as high, screechy violin noises surrounded them, the aura around the group becoming threatening, "Oh~ You," his head rotated, but his body didn't as he questioned their son, "_You. Did~?"_

Matthew's eyes widened at Francis, and looking all around him he felt his heart sink. "Am I starting to have a nightmare...?" he asked himself. That would be the only explanation for Francis looking so creepy, and the horrible excuse for music all around them... not to mention the crushing aura.

But almost as soon as he said that, the aura lifted and harp music began to replace the horrible strings, Francis giggling and smiling as a tentacle of his hair wrapped around their eldest child's neck and choked him slightly. "Non~ This is a beautiful, beautiful dream, my love~"

Matthew blinked up at him a bit, chuckling nervously and feeling a little suspicious all of a sudden. The last time Francis had acted weird like this was when he had been possessed by that one thing...

But he seemed genuine as he hugged Matthew tightly, smiling and kissing his face softly, in a rain of kisses, "I love you lots~"

Smiling, Matthew closed his eyes and enjoyed the nice feeling Francis' touch gave him. He was a soul shard, he couldn't be possessed... right? "Say, if they're love, strength, and courage..." Matthew started, looking into his eyes, "Then what are you?"

Francis opened his eyes and replied, tilting his head, "Whatever trait you think I embody~"

Matthew pouted slightly. "I don't know, though..." staring at him for a minute, he said slowly, "... knowledge...?"

Shaking his head, Francis whistled, "Non~ I know I said you could choose, but no, try again~"

"Can't you just tell me?" Matthew asked, frowning.

"_Chastity~"_ Francis purred, eyebrows raised as he leaned in and added suggestively, "_How sweet, right~?_"

Matthew blushed, giggling and grinning at him. "I think it's very sweet..." he said, shoving the thought of him taking his chastity away out of his mind. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed him again, tightening the grip around his neck.

Francis blushed slightly, hair wrapping around Matthew gently as he whispered, "When you are ready, shall I be the one to take it?"

Shivering, Matthew stammered many, many incoherent things as his head swam and heated up to an impossible degree, making him feel incredibly dizzy.

"_If you would like to know, I haven't lost mine yet~"_ Francis purred, kissing Matthew's neck gently, making a trail up to his face, "_And I would be honored to give it to you~"_

Shivering even more, Matthew turned his head away. "I-I'm a little y-young to be th-thinking about that!-!"

"_In three years you won't~"_ Francis added saucily, nibbling Matthew's neck as his hands graced the boy's spine slowly, "_And I know you'll understand what to do then~"_

Matthew arched into him, biting his tongue to stop from making a sound. "Pl-please, stop..." he muttered, blushing. "There are children..."

"_How do you think we made our children~?" _ he teased, licking his lips and shifting to kissing Matthew's hand, "_Hmm?"_

What lay in Francis' arms currently was just a stammering, blushing, over-heated mess, instead of the usual shy, quiet boy. "I-I-I didn't wa-ant to think about it...!"

"Think of me, having to wear loose clothing as I carry our sweet bundles of life~" Francis suggested slowly, kissing up Matthew's arm slowly, "As you feed me yogurt gently, and rub my stomach, wanting one of them to kick and respond to your touch~"

Thinking about what Francis described, Matthew smiled a little and closed his eyes. As odd as it sounded... he liked the idea of it. "That sounds nice..." he muttered, sighing softly.

"Imagine it, then, I want to hear what you think~" Francis chuckled, closing Matthew's lids gently with a warm aura, "It's my favorite daydream~"

Matthew chuckled before hugging him and imagining the scene; Francis wearing a smooth nightgown, since he would hate having to wear even the waistband pants, sitting on a rocking chair on the porch as the sun shined clear and bright and warm over him - well, her, since he would be with child... He, himself, would be off to the side, holding yogurt and smiling happily at him as he held out the spoon, laughing. "Do you think it'll be a boy or a girl?" he asked, smiling as Francis ate the dairy food.

"I predict~ A rambunctious boy~" Francis replied, gulping and licking her lips, missing a bit of yogurt on her cheek...

Matthew chuckled and kissed away the yogurt, winking at him. "Remember when you did that to me, once?"

Francis laughed, nodding and leaning up to kiss Matthew, "Oui~ I remember~ You tasted rather good~~~"

Matthew laughed before leaning down and kissing Francis' stomach. "I'm sure I did..." he muttered as he stared at his stomach lovingly, stroking it with his hand.

Raising a brow, Francis asked, amused, "Are you having fun down there?"

The young man laughed more and stuck out his tongue, grinning. "And what if I am?"

"Ooooo~ How naughty~" Francis teased, ruffling Matthew's hair and smirking, "In front of our child? Have you no shame~?"

"Like you haven't said worse," Matthew scoffed, smiling.

Francis blushed and laughed pervertedly, "Ohonhonhon~ _Have I~?" _

Matthew chuckled before leaning in and kissing her. "Yes, you have... do I really need to recap?"

"Go ahead~" Francis purred saucily.

"Hmm..." Matthew held a hand up to his chin, grinning. "Well, there was that time you became a cat... and then the other time when you asked if we could imitate one of Alfred's old hentais, and that time I came home and you were covered in syrup -"

Francis blushed darkly, stuttering, "I-I don't remember the syrup one!"

"Sure you don't~" Matthew said lowly, winking.

Francis blushed more and mumbled softly, "Did I look _sweet...?"_

Matthew laughed. "Still lacking confidence in that department?" he asked teasingly before nodding. "Yes, you looked very sweet, mon amour~"

"But not as much as our wedding, oui~?" She inquired, smiling beautifully, "I wore nice garter belts for that..."

"Yes, I remember," Matthew said, laughing. "You and your accessories..."

"And my hair~" Francis added, laughing and snorting slightly, "Oh, and those stockings~"

Gazing down, she fondly stroked her engagement and wedding rings, blushing more.

Smiling fondly at her, he placed his hand on top of hers. "Yeah..." he said, sighing contentedly. "And now look..." he caresses Francis' stomach again, smiling contentedly.

Francis chuckled warmly, gazing down as well and noting, "Boy, I remember how we created this~ I was hurting pretty bad the next morning~"

Matthew blushed, holding a hand up to his head and shaking it slightly. "You'll never stop reminding me, will you..."

"It was a good, _pleasing_ time, mon amour~" Francis sang, smirking and licking her lips, "I just didn't know you were so _eager~"_

Blushing more, Matthew hid his face in his hands. "Shut up..." he muttered pathetically.

"And, oh I didn't know that you're-" Francis started, pointing down at Matthew suggestively with a wide smirk.

Shifting uncomfortably, he blushed even more, hissing, "Francis!-!"

"_Big~"_ She finished, giggling hysterically, "Sheesh, is it the Ontario Tower or-"

Matthew decided to silence her with a clumsy, flustered kiss. "Please stop..." he muttered, starting to get goosebumps.

"And how aggressive-" she managed to speak out between their tangle of lips, laughter bubbling out of her as she tried to say so.

"Stop...!" Matthew practically begged, blushing even more before taking the yogurt and stuffing a spoonful in her mouth.

She squeaked in surprise, the spoon in her mouth and some dripping past her lips, her eyes wide, cheeks puffed up like a squirrel.

Matthew started laughing, holding a hand over his mouth as he grinned at her. "You look so cute~"

Francis pouted, swallowing the yogurt and taking out the spoon, narrowing her eyes and finishing, "In bed! That's when you're-"

He covered her mouth with his hand before holding a finger in front of his lips and shushing her. "Please... can you stop...?"

She pouted and licked his hand, smirking as she gave him a questioning look. Soon, she began kissing his fingers tenderly, blushing as she did so.

Blushing and stammering, Matthew's hand started shaking. "Fr-Francis!" he squeaked, biting his lip but not moving his hand, since it did feel nice...

She giggled, raising a brow and asking, "Would you please release my rosy pride? It's making it hard to breath~"

"Wh-what do you mean?!" Matthew asked, putting his hand behind his back.

"My lips~" Francis replied, giggling and giving Matthew back the spoon, "They look like the palest of rose~ Of course," she noted, snickering, "You can't give back what you've _taken~_"

Shivering, Matthew started shaking his head. "You just like to make me blush, don't you..."

Snickering more, she leaned up and kissed his cheek with a slight wince, "Oui~ I do!"

Matthew just smiled, sighing slightly. "I suppose I can't blame you..."

Nodding, Francis winced more and collapsed back in her chair, groaning in pain and displeasure, "Y-Yeah..."

Frowning, Matthew reached forward and placed his hand on her stomach. "I'm sorry... you always feel so much pain..."  
Giving a sympathetic smile to him, she insisted, "Non, I am fine... It's just, our bebe is-"

"Coming!?" Matthew asked in a panic, standing up and whipping his head around, looking like he had absolutely no idea what to do.

Watching him panic, she smirked inwardly and replied, lying, "Oui, our little "loaf" is ready for this world~"

Paling, Matthew looked like he was ready to faint. "B-but what if I'm not ready to be a father!" he yelled before standing her up and starting to lead her to the car. "Oh, never mind, we've got to get you to the hospital!-!"

"I lied, Matthieu, calm down the crazy Canadian geese in your mind." Francis giggled, bursting out into fits of laughter, "It's only kicking!"

"... Oh, right..." Matthew mumbled, reaching up to wipe away the fair amount of sweat on his forehead. "... Don't do that to me, Francis..."  
Snickering, she leaned up and kissed his cheek, "Oui, mon amour~" Giving a small yawn, she reached out her arms and asked, "Carry me? I have a question and my feet hurt..."

Matthew smiled at her before picking her up, kissing her forehead and carrying her inside. "Yes, what is it?"

"When did you officially fall in love with me~?" She asked softly, caressing his cheek sweetly.

Staring at her for a bit, he smiled widely before saying, "I believe it was the day after my first sword-lesson... when you had knocked me out."

She burst into a fit of giggles and inquired, "Really?"

"Really," Matthew said, chuckling as he sat her down on the couch gently, sitting next to her and kissing her cheek, whispering in his ear, "You completely shattered my belief that you couldn't fall in love in a week..."

Francis chuckled warmly, closing her legs together, all lady like as she replied in amusement, "Bien~ Let I, the cupid of our world, teach you as such~"

Matthew laughed before grinning, kissing under her jaw line. "And let I, your grateful subject, show my gratitude~"

"Oh, you have~" She purred, leaning closer to him, "I can feel it, deep in here~" Francis giggled, touching her stomach softly.

"I'm glad," Matthew told her, smiling warmly. "I'm so glad for everything..."

"Bien, just when you confessed and my spirit soared-" She cut herself off with a happy, pleasured sigh.

Matthew smiled, kissing her and mumbling, "Go on...?"

"And I felt as if I would live forever~" She finished, lashes fluttering rapidly over her slender cheek bones, "Oh-Oh it was too much for me to handle, to be honest~"

Matthew laughed hard before grabbing her hands, entwining their fingers. "All of your affection up to that point was too much for me..."

Smiling softly, she opened her eyes, showing that they were brimmed with sensual affections, "I know~"

"And yet you still showed it anyways..." Matthew said quietly and laughing. He leaned forward and kissed her again, mumbling, "Let's spend some quality time together~"

"Bien, I would love to~" She practically sang, kissing their hands, "I love you, my soulmate~"

"As do I," Matthew said, smiling at her. "My angel~"

Blushing darkly, she insisted, "Non! You are my angel!"

"How about we are each other's angel?" Matthew compromised, laughing. "Since there's no other way I'll win this argument. That's something I've learned over the years..."

Giggling, she nodded, asking curiously, "My soulmate, what are we going to do?"

"Well," he started, whispering as he stood up and picked her up, continuing to speak into her ear as he began walking to their room. "First, I'm going to lay you on the bed, and then we'll share a few kisses, and then..." he smirked, "it's up to you~"

Lashes fluttering, she asked suggestively, "Are you hungry~?"

"Very~" Matthew replied, laughing and blushing. Oh gosh, he would never get used to saying such things...

"Syrup~?" Francis teased, flicking his nose, "From Canadian Maple Trees? Dripping all down-"

"I don't care!" Matthew interrupted, blushing even more as he imagined just that... "Y-you're delicious either way..." he muttered quietly.

"Sugar, or chocolate-covered strawberries?" She suggested, blushing and smirking as she leaned up and kissed his jawline, "Or blueberry pancakes - not crepes? Resting right on-"

"Francis, please..." he interrupted, almost whining and shivering.

"On fine China... Mon amour..." Francis finished slowly, blinking and giving a bewildered look as she asked, "What were you -?"

"Never mind!" Matthew said quickly, blushing more as he made it to their bedroom and laid her down on the bed. "Just... n-never mind..."

Giggling, she sang, "Are you a pervert, Matthieu~? Did Alfred-"

"It's your fault for saying things like that all the time...!" Matthew said, covering his face before climbing into bed next to her. "And I am _not _a pervert...!"

"Those books on polar bears in our bookshelf would say otherwise-"

"Those are for educational purposes!-!" Matthew said, frowning.

Raising a brow, she questioned with a grin, "Why is one in a skirt?"

"... To show how cruel humans treat..." he sighed, "Oh, shut up, will you?" he asked before leaning forward and kissing her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Giggling, Francis kissed back, letting Matthew take over the kiss and mumbling, "Non~"

"Oh, we'll see about that..." Matthew said quietly as he grinned and bit her lip softly.

"M-Matthieu-" she stammered, eyes widening till-  
"There, all done!" Francis declared happily, whipping Matthew out of his mind.

Matthew sat up, looking around wildly. He was back in their dorm room, located in Rosa Academy, both of them still teenagers, and Francis still a very effeminate boy...

Blushing as he recalled what he had just been dreaming about, he shook his head before asking, "All done with w-what?"

Looking down, he noticed that a necklace was around his neck, causing him to stiffen in surprise. He remembered where this was from... and what it was supposed to help him with...

Francis turned around and smiled cheerily, "Your measurements, you're half naked and I spilt some syrup-"

"What!?" Matthew interrupted, looking down and blushing, covering up his top half.

"Because I was drinking it out of the bottle!" Francis quickly explained, blushing darkly as well and looking away with a nervous laugh.

"... O-oh..." Matthew muttered before grabbing his now-stained shirt from off the floor and putting it in front of him. "... Wh-what exactly did you measure...?"

"Your torso, chest, thighs, calves, biceps, waist, lower-" Francis clamped a hand over his mouth and blushed darkly, shaking his wavy locks and trying to hide behind them.

"... L-lower what...?" he asked quietly, already knowing the answer was probably going to make him blush or squeak...

"Uh, um..." Francis trailed off, blushing more, "N-Nothing..."

"Please, just tell me?" Matthew asked. He had to know where his hands had been while he was unconscious... He just _had_ to!

"I don't know what to call it..." Francis admitted softly.

Creasing his eyebrows, Matthew said, "Then... point to the area...?"

"I can't remember where it was!" Francis snapped a little too quickly, blushing even more and squeezing his eyes shut.

"But you just measured me..." Matthew muttered, frowning. "Why don't you want to tell me?"

"Y-You'll get mad..." Francis mumbled, curling up into a ball and shivering.

Matthew sighed and crawled forward, hugging his ball form. "I promise not to, okay? …"  
"It was your lower lashes!" Francis exclaimed, shivering more, "They look so long and graceful to me that I just had to-"

He was interrupted by Matthew's loud, boisterous laughter. "Th-that's all?" he said, covering his mouth but still laughing. "Why would I be mad about that?"

"Because I made you lose a few..." Francis whimpered, shivering as a few dramatic tears escaped him, "And they're so beautiful..."

Matthew laughed a bit more before smiling at him. "It's all right... I'm not mad. Well, about that..." he blushed before saying, "My thighs are a different story..."

Peeking out, Francis asked, "Do you have scars there, or -?"

"No..." Matthew said, shaking his head and looking away. "It's just a, uh, sensitive area..."

"So that's why you were making those noises and muttering my name!" Francis exclaimed innocently, smiling and laughing slightly. "How cute!"

"... Heh, yeah..." Matthew agreed, blushing more as he continued to look at Francis, remembering all of the times he had kissed him in his dreams... "Cute..."

"At least you don't have a cross shaped scar on your spine," Francis mentioned carelessly, hugging Matthew tightly and nuzzling his cheek against the Canadian's, "Now that is a sensitive area of mine~"

Chuckling a bit, Matthew hugged him back. "Good to know...?" he said, kind of wanting to see said scar now...

"Would you like to-?" Francis suggested, pointing to Matthew's sweater that he was wearing, tugging up his candy cane, double striped thigh high socks slightly and blushing, "Because I don't mind if you see my scar..."

"... O-only if you want..." Matthew said, blushing a little and smiling. He quickly put his shirt back on, though, feeling horribly bare and kind of cold.

Francis' eyes glimmered as he nodded, beginning to pull his dress like garment off and laughing, "Something must have changed you in dreamland, mon amour!"

"Wh-why would you say that?!" Matthew asked quickly, his heart skipping a beat.

"You aren't terribly flustered about my stripping~" Francis replied, pursing his lips and smiling slightly, "Interesting~"

"... W-well..." Matthew started, blushing. "I, uh, just..." he stopped talking as he realized that he had no idea what to say. _Maybe it's because I don't mind if I see...? Gah! No! Bad Matthew!-!_ he scolded himself, turning away from him. "On second thought, maybe you shouldn't -"

Glancing back, he noticed that it was already off, and he could see the pale scar traced down Francis' spine, almost knife thin. It seemed to start at the middle of his neck and reach his tailbone.

"W-Well?" Francis asked, using the sweater to cover his front as he blushed slightly, which looked rather attractive to Matthew since it colored his pale skin in such a complementary way-

… He needed to get his thoughts under control...

Unfortunately, he couldn't stop himself as he crawled forward to get a closer look at the scar, frowning. "That looks like it hurt..."

"It did, having two iron rods scaring me like that..." Francis admitted honestly, his voice lacking some emotion as he said so, "And then the scars on my thighs from when-"

He quickly stopped talking when he felt Matthews gentle fingers touch the edge of the scar near his neck.

Blushing darkly, he made a small noise, cheeks laced with fire. Giving a long shudder, he asked softly, "M-Matthieu?"

"Ah, sorry..." Matthew mumbled, taking his hand away and blushing a little. "I... have a problem," he said, sighing. "Everything I see with a line or a pattern I just feel like tracing..."

Chuckling softly, Francis replied gently, "That's alright with me. You may touch it if you so desire."

"... But didn't you say it was sensitive...?" Matthew asked quietly, still staring at the scar, itching to trace the delicate skin again to feel the contrast between smooth and rough meld together on his own fingers.

"I can handle it, Matthieu," Francis insisted, smiling inwardly and closing his eyes, blushing more, "Anything to make you happy."

"... Thanks," Matthew said, smiling. He slowly lifted his hand back to where it was, on the very top of the scar, gently brushing his finger down the line. It was an almost addictive feeling...

Francis bit down harshly on his lower lip, self containing any noises as he shivered, squeezing his eyes shut and panting slightly.  
As the tracing continued, Matthew could feel the heart necklace he was wearing throb slightly, the rosy aura surrounding it and glowing swallowed, biting his own lip as he traced his hand back up the scar, leaning in and whispering, "Hey... Francis?"

Gasping and clutching his throat, Francis keeled over slightly, panting and asking weakly, "O-Oui?"

"... I..." Matthew started, but then blushed as he realized that he didn't really want to say it when he was naked... "Um, I have something to tell you, but... I need you to put your shirt back on..."

Francis slowly bent back up, nodding weakly and slipping it back on quickly. When his head poked out from the collar, he asked, turning around and facing Matthew, still panting as his face was on fire, "O-Oui?"

Taking a deep breath, Matthew closed his eyes, reaching up and gripping the necklace around him. _It's now or never... _ he decided before opening his eyes and smiling softly at him. "Francis, I..."

Francis nodded, giving a curious look and hugging himself, his rosy lips looking a more cherry red as Matthew stared at them, trying to find the right words to say... And _boy _did they look like succulent cherries...

Giving in to his attention to detail, Matthew leaned over and kissed him, blushing slightly and thinking that he did taste overly sweet like fruit...

Francis stared in shock, soft, long lashes fluttering rapidly as he realized what was happening. Matthew was kissing his lips... _Willingly_ and - and he could feel Matthew's - Matthew's _love-_

"I love you," the younger boy finally whispered against his lips, looking into his eyes and smiling sheepishly. "It... just took me awhile..."

Francis stared, face flaring up as his vision began to swirl and shake, "Y-You actually - you actually-"

"Yes," Matthew said, laughing a bit. "Is it too much...?" He grinned on the inside as he remembered Francis saying that in his daydream... His confession being too much.

Distantly shaking his head, Francis began to wobble till he gasped, fainting and falling into Matthew's arms, lips parted almost temptingly for the Canadian as the French boy's lashes fluttered close.

"... I'm going to take that as a yes..."


	12. A Heart Full of Love

Groaning, Francis clutched his head as his eyes fluttered open, feeling himself being rocked. Eyes fully opening, he yawned then gasped as he felt arms wrapped around him, his slender, shaking body being pressed to a thick, familiar one-

"Y-You," Francis gasped, staring up at Matthew, who seemed situated on a chair and was... Rocking him, "S-Said J'taime!"

Smiling weakly, he looked away. "Ah... I guess I did..."

"T-Tell me again!" Francis begged, sitting up and clutching Matthew tightly, tears spilling out, "I promise I will not fall ill this time when you do! Please, _please_ say it again!"

Matthew laughed, biting his lip slightly, but still grinning. "... Okay," he said quietly before leaning in and kissing his tears as they fell. "Francis, I love you..."

Making a noise of pleasure, Francis insisted, "Louder!"

Laughing even more, he said just a little bit louder, "I love you."

Francis swooned, clutching Matthew more and begging rather pathetically, "A-Again! Pinch me!"

Rolling his eyes amusedly, Matthew leaned in, whispering the words "I love you" around a thousand times into his ear.

Shivering each time, Francis' lashes fluttered, a pleased like moan escaping him as he hugged Matthew and then kissed his lips tenderly, making loud noises into his mouth and blushing darkly.

Matching his blush, Matthew kissed him back, the noises the other was making... ah, exciting him, a little...

Releasing his lips, Francis began to peck his face lovingly and singing, "Oh, thank you, thank you, all this love - all these _sensual _feelings-"

"You really need to stop using that word..." Matthew mumbled before he kissed Francis again almost eagerly, closing his eyes.

Francis's eyes squeezed shut as he mumbled into Matthew's mouth. Lazily, his hand stroked Matthew's thigh-

"Eep!" Matthew squeaked, immediately breaking the kiss and grabbing Francis' hand, blushing darkly. "N-n-n..."

Francis cocked his head, giving a confused yet concerned look, "What is it-"

"D-don't..." Matthew interrupted, shaking his head. "T-touch there..."

Francis blinked in surprise before smirking, singing "innocently," "_Why~?"_

Blushing even more, Matthew closed his eyes tightly and turned away from him. "Y-you know why... you cruel boy..."

"_Cruel~?"_ Francis cooed, leaning in and letting the words brush and tickle Matthew's lips tantalizingly as Francis shifted to a tall, British accent, "Why would you ever say that, _loooove~"_ the last word dripping, almost creaking out of his throat slowly, making Matthew shudder.

"B-because..." he mumbled, covering his face in both of his arms. "Look at what y-you're doing to me..."

"Good, my little _pancake~_" Francis crooned, forcing Matthew's arms down slowly and kissing his cheek just as slow, his lips sucking at his skin. He smirked when he saw said cheek darken considerably, and feel his mouth drop open in surprise and unspoken words.

Releasing Matthew's cheek, he continued smirking and asked, "_Well~?_"

"... W-well what?" Matthew asked, holding a hand up to his cheek and looking down, thinking that maybe he should have waited awhile to tell Francis how he felt...

Well, too late now.

Matthew watched as Francis' curl bounced in front of Matthew's face teasingly, Francis, for some reason, not noticing as his eyes glittered mischievously.

"... Well...?" Matthew repeated before leaning forward and cautiously placing his lips on Francis' curl.

Francis stiffened, eyes wide, and covering his mouth as a strangled sound came from him, his whole body darkening.

"S-sorry...!" Matthew felt the need to say, blushing and leaning back. He had to admit that he had sounded kind of cute, though...

Singing slightly, to dispense the noise out of his system, Francis commented weakly, "M-Matthew... T-That felt good..."

A violent shudder passed through Matthew as he swallowed, tugging at the collar of his shirt as it was starting to choke him, and making him feel incredibly hot. "O-oh... really?" he asked in a squeak, blushing more.

Francis opened his eyes, that shined with surprise and anticipation, like two, slender glass orbs that Matthew found himself lost in.

"O-Oui... Really..." Francis replied distantly, staring into Matthew's own violet pair intensely.

"... So..." Matthew said, leaning forward and whispering, "Do you want me to...?"

Blushing more, Francis rubbed his cheek timidly and nodded slowly, "I-If you want-"

"Hey, that's my line..." Matthew said, chuckling a bit. He bit his lip as he stared at him, watching his curl sway slightly. Cautiously again, he leaned forward and placed his lips on the hair with just a little bit more pressure than the last time.

Hearing Francis sing out loudly, as if finding random loud, low tones too rude, Matthew found himself grinning.

Francis panted, shaking and hugging let out a strangled sort of sound as he felt Matthew wrap his arms around his waist and pull him close, kissing the base of his curl now.

Francis sang it again, a high pitch note, and trembled more, his whole body turning what Matthew would call a delicious crimson...

"Are you okay...?" Matthew asked teasingly, smirking into his eyes.

Francis stuttered and objected, giving a stubborn look, "Oui! It is nothing I cannot handle!"

"Oh, really..." Matthew whispered before a mischievous glint came to his eyes and he reached forward to kiss his curl, only this time biting it.

And, let's just say, from that day on, Matthew knew Francis _could_ reach operatic notes that high...

"... Wow..." Matthew muttered, laughing slightly and feeling an odd sense of pride at what he could make come out of Francis' mouth. "That was, um..."

"Hurt!" Francis cried, rubbing his eyes furiously as tears slipped out and he shook violently, beginning to cry.

Matthew jumped a little, hugging him quickly. "Oh, geez, I'm so sorry, Francis...!"

Francis nuzzled against him, smirking darkly as he reached up and bit Matthew's curl harshly, hissing lowly, "_Le sike~"_

Matthew let out a shuddering moan as his entire body darkened, shaking slightly. Panting like mad, he leaned on Francis, his heart pounding like mad and feeling tingly all over. "F-Francis...!" he said breathlessly.

Francis smirked, slipping out of Matthew's grasp as he blew a kiss, cooing mockingly, "Come and catch me~"

He didn't really expect that to be taken to heart when Matthew practically pounced on top of him, making them both land on the bed.

Squealing in surprising, Francis' eyes widened as he yelped, "M-Matthieu, you-"

Shaking his head slowly, Matthew leaned in, whispering, "I told you what happened..." before kissing him and running a hand down the boy's side, closing his eyes as his brain became incredibly foggy.

Francis gave a groan as his lashes fluttered shut till-  
"I TOLD YOU MY PLAN WORKED!" Alfred yelled, rolling out from under the couch as Arthur popped out from his disguise as a potted plant, blushing a little from seeing the two in such an... intimate moment.

Matthew squeaked and jumped a foot into the air, landing hard on the floor. "Wh-what are you two doing here!-!" he asked, blushing hard.

Alfred gave a loud laugh and snapped some more pictures, while Francis fell off the bed and onto Matthew's chest with a squeak.

"I wanted to see two become one-" Alfred started with a smirk till Arthur interrupted him.

"Cut it out, Alfred!" he said, shaking his head and holding a hand up to his eyes. "You've already embarrassed them plenty... I'd hate to be in their position..."

Francis groaned and blushed more, announcing, "Matthew, just become one with me now then-"

"NO WAY!" Matthew yelled, shaking as his blush traveled to every part of him again. "N-not now! I'm still a t-t-teenager!-!"

Francis laughed, shifting and hugging Matthew close, nuzzling his face into his chest and whispering, "I know, and I want to wait."

Matthew let out a breath of relief as he let his head clunk onto the floor. "Good..."

"I do apologize, you two," Arthur spoke up, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Suddenly, Arthur was tackled into a shaky hug as Francis rambled, "C-Can we wear matching dresses when we get married to our fiancés, Arthur-"

"Matching dresses!?" Arthur exclaimed, blushing as he glared at him. "I am _not_ going to be wearing a dress..,!"

Alfred's cowlick wiggled as he thought of Arthur in one, which, unfortunately, Arthur could also see-

"Alfred, knock it off!" he snapped at him, eye twitching.

Matthew stared at it all in shock, having processed that Francis hadn't even referred to him as a _boyfriend _yet_..._

"W-wait a minute..." Matthew spoke up, shaking his head as he walked over to Francis. "What's all this talk about marriage...?"

Eyes sparkling, Francis ran and hugged Matthew tightly, laughing cheerily, "You and I will have to get married in a few days to crown you my prince in the church on time, after all-"

Frowning, Matthew pushed him away slightly. "No," he said sternly, "I'm not getting married in a week!-!"

Francis pouted, feeling like he had been scolded. Pursing his lips, he offered with an annoyed expression, "But don't you want to see my corset and stockings, with my pantyhose-"

"N-not yet!" Matthew yelled desperately, running a hand down his face. "Francis... we haven't even gone on a date yet..." he blushed a little as he looked down and twiddled with his fingers. "Remember when I told you how 21st century people get married after a few _years_...?"

Francis blinked then nodded, sighing in frustration and retorting stubbornly, "_Fine_, but your crown will get all dusty..."

Laughing a little, Matthew shook his head. "That's all right, I don't need a _crown_ as long as I have..." he hunched his shoulders as he smiled weakly, muttering, "...my boyfriend?"

Francis squealed happily, tackling him to the ground and beginning to straddle him as he attacked his face with tons of kisses, "I do I do I DO!"

"We're still here, you know..." Arthur said, glancing at Alfred who just wiggled his eyebrows at him. He groaned and facepalmed himself. "We should leave..."

Alfred quickly snapped some pictures, then swept Arthur into his arms, bridal style, and declared with a laugh, "Off to that cathedral, eh? My little Catholic choir boy?!"

Blushing, Arthur reached into his pocket. "Oh, that reminds me..." he muttered before taking out the Green Lantern ring he had shown Matthew a few days ago. "I... er, made this for you..."

Alfred gaped in surprise and drooled. Gazing down at Arthur, his glittering eyes stared at him as he decided, "That's it. We have to become one, NOW!"

Shivering, Arthur exclaimed, "N-now!?"

"_Nooooooooooow~!" _Alfred sang, skipping out the door with poor Arthur in tow.

"... D-dear, can we please wait a bit?!"

"NOPE~" Alfred laughed, placing Arthur, standing, on the ground and grasped his shoulder tightly, "We'll do it, right here! Here! Hand me the ring, we'll nneeeeeed ittt!" He finished, singing an excited high note.

Sighing, Arthur reached forward and kissed him roughly before separating and saying, "Alfred, I think we should wait... please? Let's just enjoy this for awhile-"

The aura around them turned forceful as Alfred commanded, "Ring. Now. Please."

Arthur stiffened a bit before clenching his fists and glaring. "No! I feel strongly about this Alfred - we should _wait_-!"

"God damn it, Arthur, can't you take a hint!?" Alfred yelled suddenly, shaking the poor Brit, "I'm using vague, double entendres so that I can get the friggin' ring and flippin' propose to you-you-you-" he then gave a loud, irate sigh and shouted, "Twat!"

Arthur stared at him for a bit before smiling slightly. "... You realize that we wouldn't actually get married until after high school and college, right?"

Rolling his eyes, Alfred took off his glasses and flung them down the hall, snapping, "Yes, you wanker, I _know!"_

Blinking at him, Arthur smiled as he felt tears come to his eyes. Grabbing his hand, he opened up his palm before placing the ring inside of it, gently moving his fingers over the small object. "Very well, then..."

Breathing deeply, Alfred shook himself then smiled. Getting down on one knee, he held the ring out and asked, in the most sincere voice he could project, "Arthur T. Kirkland. I have know you from the first memories I have captured in the digital camera of my mind. Ever since we were babes we played together, ate together, sometimes bathed together-" Alfred's eyes shone as he continued, fluently and without any stray nerves, "And I would question myself, "How much do I care about my bestest friend?" Well, today, I have that answer," slipping the ring on Arthur's finger, he bent down and kissed it softly, "I love you more than my soul that we both know is damned to Hell and not worth very much. I love you more than all my manga, my hentai, my DVD's, videogames, _Flopsy _- all of it! So," letting tears slip out of his eyes, he asked, voice now breaking, "Would you please accept my proposal to marry and someday become one with you?"

Throughout the whole speech, Arthur had just been smiling like a maniac, not caring about the happy tears that cascaded down his flushed cheeks. Now, he leaned down and hugged him tightly, saying, "Of course I accept, how could I not?" He looked directly into his eyes, frowning slightly as he said, "And your soul is worth a lot to me, Alfred... I promise, we'll find a way to save you..."

Alfred cracked a smile, laughing despite his tears and shaking nerves. Getting up, he hugged Arthur tightly and whispered, "T-Thanks, Mr. Kirkland-Jones!"

Smiling, Arthur kissed him, wrapping his arms around his neck. "I've always like the sound of that, to be honest..."

Laughing more, Alfred questioned, "Yet not Jones-Kirkland?"

"Oh, let's face it..." Arthur said, laughing as he kissed him again. "Does it really sound right?""

"Good point, Artie~" Alfred sighed, shivering as he hugged Arthur more, nuzzling his neck and not noticing the prying eyes from a few feet away.

"I'm happy for them," Matthew whispered, smiling to himself.

Francis clutched Matthew's hand to his chest and nodded slowly, smiling warmly at Matthew with loving eyes, "Oui~"

Knowing how he was being looked at, he blushed, looking away and smiling even dorkier to himself.

Giggling, Francis leaned in and kissed Matthew's dorky smile and whispered, "J'taime~"

Kissing him back, Matthew muttered, "I love you, too..."

The two cuddled together, hiding on one side of the bed till their friends had left, smiling and whispering at one another as they did. Matthew found it amusing how they seemed to have forgotten they were there in the first place, even though this was _their_ dorm room.

Peeking out, Francis sighed in relief, "The coast is clear~ Ugh, my legs ache..."

"Anyway I can help with that...?" Matthew asked with a small smirk.

Somehow not noticing Matthew's implications, Francis nodded happily, eyes closed and asked innocently, "Oh, would you please?!"

Matthew blinked at him for a second before blushing. "R-really...?" He had been expecting Francis to blush and make a sarcastic comment... not agree with him!

"Oui! They feel so numb - I can hardly stand!" Francis cried out slightly, poking his thighs, "Oh please, _help me Matthieu~_"

Swallowing, Matthew muttered an "Okay" before reaching forward and placing his hand on top of Francis' thigh before starting to massage it very slowly, _sensually._

Purring, Francis nuzzled him and thanked cheerfully, "Thank you! You are so kind, Matthieu!"

"Heh, I try..." he said, smiling weakly. Ah, so his thighs must not be that sensitive...

"Luckily, the scars on the _back_ of my thighs aren't numb, though!" Francis commented, oblivious to Matthew's confusion, "Otherwise, I'd be yowling and singing till the cows come home!"

Francis gazed into Matthew's eyes before closing them, and smiling, "Does that make sense or...?"

"No, yeah!" Matthew said, smiling nervously. "That makes a lot of sense..." He bit his lip, telling himself to take things slow, and to control his teenage mind, and his curiosity to see just _how_ sensitive Francis was there...

Francis giggled, shifting and hugging Matthew tightly, mumbling and nuzzling the Canadian's face.

Smiling, Matthew hugged him back, laughing a bit. "What time is it, anyways?"

Francis smirked, kissing Matthew's lips deeply and whispering into them, "Time for you to get a watch~"

Rolling his eyes, Matthew sat back and crossed his arms, raising a brow. "And when have I had time to get a watch since I came here?"

Chuckling, the blonde shifted so he was on Matthew's lap. Taking the Canadian's arms, he shifted them so that his hands were resting them on Francis' stomach, unintentionally calling Matthew back to his dream as replied softly, "Never ~ But if you truly want to know what time it is, I think it's time for you to spoil moi~"

Matthew laughed a little, smiling into his eyes. "Oh, really?" he asked, amused. "And how shall I do that?"

"Brush my hair, feed me chocolates, bathe with me in rose water~" Francis listed absently, purring as he did so and stroking Matthew's cheek slowly.

Matthew laughed a little, slipping his arms around his waist. "You've had time to think about this, haven't you?"

Chuckling, Francis nodded and replied serenely, "Oui, I have all week~"

"... Week?" Matthew asked weakly, blushing a little. he had thought that he would have just thought of these things throughout his entire life span... with anyone, really... not specifically _him_.

Laughing, Francis captured his lips in a soft kiss as his lashes fluttered against Matthew's own cheek bones, "Or maybe I haven't~ It's rather negligible, when we're just going to do those things anyways~"

"Right..." Matthew said, smiling slightly. "Er, maybe we should actually... _do_ something... instead of just sitting here...?" He didn't necessarily want to spend the _entire_ day kissing someone who he just found out he had feelings for... That didn't seem right somehow.

Blinking, Francis quickly got up and began to drag Matthew out of their room triumphantly, singing in French and laughing, not explaining a thing to Matthew.

"Uh, Francis?" Matthew spoke up, looking at him. "Where are we going?"

"Not telling~!" Francis responded in French, picking up the pace as he continued to drag Matthew down the hall.

"Francis, I don't speak French!" Matthew called, frowning as he jogged after him, his hand still stuck in the other's.

"Well, that's unfortunate~" Francis teased, still not reverting back to English as he smirked, blowing Matthew a kiss with his free hand.

Sighing, Matthew just followed after him, realizing that his friend - er, boyfriend... - wanted to surprise him for whatever reason. He Briefly wondered if there were even _more_ secret rooms in the school, or if he was going to take him to a familiar place like the courtyard, or the library, or the stables to visit Rarity.

"Can't you give me a hint? In _English_," Matthew asked, pouting slightly.

Stopping abruptly, Francis turned around with a grin and laughed, before taking a deep breath, and singing a loud, high note with his eyes closed.

Almost immediately, Matthew heard the rapid chirping of doves racing towards the "princely," young blonde, making Matthew's eyes widened as some of the birds landed on his head and shoulders, while others surrounded Francis, lifting his hair with their beaks gently. They held them up, small wings flapping as some landed on his shoulders, outstretched arms, and on top of his head. Nuzzling the one who called him, they made small, happy chirps, and sang along with him.  
To Matthew, it honestly reminded him of Snow White, and he couldn't stop staring at Francis and all of the birds on him. Taking in his melodic voice, Matthew just smiled, not wanting to disturb any part of this beautiful moment and wishing he had a camera to capture it. Where's Alfred when you _need_ him?

Opening his eyes slowly, Francis sang softly to the birds in French, giving them knowing looks. The doves chirped and cheered in agreement, before taking flight and moving quickly down the hall, disappearing in a streak of white and cream colored plumage.

"Where are they going?" Matthew asked, tilting his head slightly as he stared after them.

"To do something for me~" Francis giggled, speaking English once more as his eyes shimmered mischievously, "_Prepare_, as I call it. Meanwhile, I need you to help me with something~"

"... Why do I have a bad feeling about this...?" Matthew asked slowly, sighing.

Laughing melodically, Francis insisted, "It isn't too bad, I just need to get some textures and furs-"

"Furs!?" Matthew asked, eyes widening. "_Faux_ fur?-?" he asked hopefully.

Biting his bottom lip, Francis shrugged uncomfortably and mumbled, "If that's what you twenty first century people call fur now..."

Matthew shook his head decisively. "No! I refuse to wear _anything_ made of animal fur!-!"

"I-I won't get it!" Francis exclaimed, utterly confused and shaking in fear, as if having done something terrible, "I thought people liked being warm!"

"You can be warm without using animals," Matthew explained, hugging himself and grimacing. "Sometimes people hurt the poor critters when extracting fur, and I don't like that..."

"I-I swear these furs are a few centuries old - I-I didn't know better!" Francis cried out, trembling and hugging himself as he began to cry.

Sighing, Matthew walked forward and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, don't cry... of course you didn't know..." He smiled weakly, "Just... don't use them, though, please?"

Francis cried more, insisting, "N-Now you hate me!"

"I do not!" Matthew said, sighing. "Now you know I don't like it, so it's okay! I don't hate you, and I'm not that mad, okay?"

Francis continued to cry, despite his words, and trembled like a weak sapling in a raging , Matthew figured the only way to calm him down would be to kiss him gently, staring into his eyes. "Please, stop crying, will you?" he asked quietly.

Francis blinked and stopped, staring before purring and hugging Matthew tightly, leaping into his arms and demanding with a grin, "Alright! Take me to Toris, now!"

Creasing his eyebrows, Matthew asked, "Why...?" before starting to walk anyways.

"He is the one in our group who owns all of the textiles I need!" Francis declared, laughing and hugging Matthew tightly, "I'm going to create your outfit in under thirty minutes!"

"... Is that possible?" Matthew asked, thinking back to all of those fashion shows he had glimpsed. A lot of those looked like they took quite a bit of time to make... Could he really do it in a half hour?

"Matthew," Francis deadpanned, giving him a look, "I'm a cursed, immortal being. I think I can figure a way to make clothing for you in under an hour."

"... You said half an hour," Matthew said, grinning.

Closing his eyes, Francis opened them slightly, which were narrowed, and gave Matthew a worn look as he "threatened" irately, "Do you want me to snap?"

"Well, I've been able to handle you before..." Matthew said jokingly, giggling a little.

Narrowing his eye more, almost like those cartoon characters with equal signs that Matthew remembered from his childhood, Francis warned, "Like an overly emotional, raging female with PMS?"

Matthew laughed as he covered his mouth with one of his hands, remembering how Francis might be pregnant in the future and how emotional he'd be then. "Well, I might as well get used to that side of you," Matthew joked more, kissing his cheek to try and diminish his anger, if only slightly.

"J-Jerk... " Francis mumbled, blushing and rubbing his eyes as he refused to lift his head up, "You're a big jerk..."

"... Sorry," Matthew apologized, smiling guiltily. "You're the one who said it..."

"You're the one who's going to suffer through it~" Francis crooned with a smirk, shifting and gazing up into Matthew's eyes, his own cerulean ones looking darker and slightly sinister, "And I'll make sure that you suffer _a lot~"_

Matthew stared into his crazed eyes before smiling "sweetly." "But if you make me suffer _too _much on purpose, I may ignore you..."

Shaking his head, Francis groaned, and lampshaded in annoyance, "Look, can we cut the creepy innuendos this time and say I'm exhausted, and kind of pissed..."

"Why's that?" Matthew asked, getting more serious and staring at him. "I figured you'd be on the moon."

"I feel frustrated~" Francis sighed, growling inwardly, "Why can't I think of what to wear!? Should it be sexy or not? Should I wear high heels, or just stockings, an updo hairstyle or not, I mean-"

"Why do you always worry about what you look like?" Matthew asked, sighing slightly and smiling wryly at him. "I've told you, you always look beautiful - stop fussing so much!"

"Because I can't just be _beautiful!_" Francis cried out, rubbing his face frustratedly, "I have to be _perfect!"_

Rolling his eyes, Matthew set him down and gripped his shoulders firmly, shaking him. "Francis, _no one is perfect_."

Shaking his head, Francis insisted, "But _you_ are!"

Matthew froze, his eyes glazing over as he stared at Francis. "... You think that...?" he asked lowly, feeling... empty, inside, somehow. But it was a good empty... he couldn't explain it; it was like Francis had robbed him of all thought or emotion by that proclamation.

Placing his hands on Matthew's cheeks in concern, Francis squished them slowly and asked timidly, "M-Matthieu?"

Shaking his head slightly, he muttered, "I'm not perfect, Francis..." He began to feel as if a bright light was emanating from his core and slowly heating him up. Smiling, he added, "But... thank you for thinking so." He laughed a bit, thinking of Angelus; he could really feel just how much Francis loved him, to think so highly of him like that.

Francis pouted and squished Matthew's cheeks more, scolding him as if _Matthew_ was the child this time, "Non, you are perfect!"

Matthew shook his head, smiling. "Nope, sorry. This is one argument you're not going to win, Francis."

Scolding him more, Francis gave an annoyed glare and insisted, "Oui!"

"Non," Matthew replied childishly, sticking his tongue out at him before walking ahead to where he presumed Toris was - the courtyard.

Suddenly, he saw Toris in his line of vision, walking and smiling serenely, and wiping a hand on an apron whilst balancing a platter on the other. His shoulder length chocolate hair was tied back loosely, and from what Matthew could tell, he seemed happy. A healthy glow on his cheeks, and his green eyes dancing, Matthew then noticed his hand move behind him and grasp... Ivan's?!

"Toris?" Matthew called, jogging over to him, just a little dazed at the sight. Wasn't Toris completely and utterly _terrified_ of Ivan?-?

Blinking in surprise, Toris stopped and stared for a moment, Ivan doing the same.  
Ivan, however, smiled cheerily and wrapped an arm around Toris' waist, holding him close then opening his eyes, sending a dark look Matthew's way as he greeted sinisterly, "Privit, _comrade_~"

"... R-r-right!" Matthew said, shrinking back and shaking from his gaze. "Sorry..."

Francis on the other hand, giggled and ran, hugging the two and causing Toris to squeak as his platter almost fell out of his hand. Luckily, Ivan grasped it with a warm laugh, accepting the hug along with the surprised brunet.

Turning his gaze to Matthew, Toris asked softly, giving a small smile, "W-What brings you two here?"

"Uh, well," Matthew started, walking up to them cautiously and avoiding looking at the scary Russian. "Francis wanted to get some textiles from you."

"Is that so, comrade?" Ivan questioned, closing his eyes happily and giving a small smile, and adding forcefully, "_Why is that?_"

"T-to make outfits..." he answered vaguely, lower lip trembling as he looked at him.

"Ah, alright, I'll unlock the room, then." Toris answered with slightly bigger smile. stroking Francis' hair, which for some reason... Made Matthew feel a surge of _possessiveness_...

"Ah, thank you..." Matthew said a little darkly as he grabbed Francis by the arm and pulled him away from the boy gently.

Raising a brow, Toris shifted his eyes up to Ivan, who looked back down knowingly.  
Francis pouted slightly and whined, "Matthew, I wasn't done giving them a group hug..."

"... Right," Matthew said, laughing nervously as he released him and brought his hand to the back of his head. Inwardly cursing himself for acting like that, he simply smiled, knowing that Francis just liked hugs and things like that and that half of them didn't mean a thing. Yes, not a thing...

Yet, images of Toris holding Francis close, the two kissing and smiling warmly, flashed in his mind, making him grimace and want to sweep Francis off his feet, and take him somewhere **private for a little **_**training**_** of his own...**

Matthew shook his head inwardly, telling himself that he was being completely ridiculous. If there was one thing that Francis had proved to him, it was that he loved him, insanely so, and he and Toris would never... do those things together. So the thought shouldn't make him so angry - heck, the thoughts shouldn't even _be_ there in the first place!-! Francis was loyal, and kind, he would never, ever, _ever_ cheat on him.

… And yet he couldn't stop thinking about it...

_Am I the jealous type...? _he asked himself disappointedly. He didn't _want_ to be the jealous type! He wanted to be the trusting type!-! Because that was what Francis deserved, his absolute trust... not his raging, stupid, petty _jealousy!_

"_Oh, thank you for saving me, Toris~!" he imaged, unwillingly, what Francis would say with sparkling eyes and an adorable blush.  
"Anytime, fair maiden~" a hilariously out of character, handsome, and lecherous Toris would reply, cupping Francis' cheek and bringing their mouths close-_

"No!" Matthew said out loud, immediately cupping a hand over his mouth and blushing slightly.

Francis turned, giving Matthew a bewildered look. Walking over to him, he tilted his head, causing his shining, straw and gold colored tresses to bounce. The boy's rose colored lips were parted, rather temptingly, as he asked, his cerulean eyes danced with wonder, "What's wrong, mon amour?"

"... Nothing..." Matthew lied, smiling convincingly at him while closing his eyes. "Just my imagination, again." _My horrible imagination..._

Tilting his head innocently, Francis asked curiously, "What were you day dreaming about?"

"... Er..." Matthew started, opening his eyes to look at him. "... I forgot already," he finished, shrugging ambiguously.

Opening his eyes, Francis gave a knowing smirk and noted, "You're uncomfortable, and radiating... _Jealousy~?"_

Blushing, Matthew held his hands out in front of him. "N-No!-!" he denied, laughing nervously. "Wh-why would you say th-that?"

"I can see it in your eyes~" Francis smirked, taking the key from Toris then flicking his eyes over to Ivan. Ivan met his gaze, and, as if suddenly, out of the blue, Matthew heard Francis squeal in shock as Ivan scooped him up and kissed him roughly on the lips.

Matthew stared at them, jaw slack in complete and utter shock before his gaze hardened and he growled. "Get _off!_" he yelled loudly as he pulled Francis out of Ivan's grip and stood up against the boy he was usually so cowardly in front of. "What the _hell_ do you think you're doing!" he continued, poking him in the rib cage _hard _and even kicking his shin.

Francis blushed darkly as Matthew held him _protectively_ to his chest, and began to storm past the two, growling and glaring ahead of them as Toris and Ivan stood back behind them in utter surprise and shock.

"I can't believe the nerve of that... _ugh!_" Matthew grumbled to himself, turning around to glare at the Russian. "Where's a sword when you need one?"

Ivan closed his eyes cheerly, and threatened with ease, "Stabbed in your torso, _comrade~"_

Matthew froze, thinking that he was referencing to the sword that was stuck inside Francis. He turned around again, glaring. "Say that again," he spat, clenching his shaking fists.

Francis gazed up at him in shock, trembling as he felt Matthew's hands grip his waist, while Ivan replied cooly, "The sword stabbed in _Francis_' torso, _comrade~"_

Matthew ground his teeth together before running faster than he'd ever run in his life, jumping up and aiming a kick for the heart of his chest.

Ivan's eyes dilated in shock as he fell to the ground, mouth parted in a silent yell as he fell, with a loud _thump._

Toris also seemed at a loss for words as he gazed down at Ivan, then at Matthew. He couldn't believe Matthew, such a sweet, shy, boy, would have kicked an intimidating, cruel giant like _Ivan._ And holding Francis all the while no less!

"Not so tough now, are you?" Matthew asked icily. "Da? _Comrade?_" he added mockingly.

Francis gazed up into Matthew's eyes, fear displayed in his as his stomach and muscles locked up in fear. W-What if Matthew would hurt him...?

Ivan just gazed up in shock, barely breathing. His skin seemed paler, like paper, as his violet eyes looked strained and distant.

Matthew just kind of snarled at him, but as a few more seconds passed of him not saying anything or getting up, the enraged by began to calm down. Raising an eyebrow, guilt starting to settle in, he let go of Francis and walked over to him cautiously. "I-Ivan...?" he asked, sounding much more like his usual self. "Are you okay?"

Suddenly a pipe shot out and pierced Matthew's left shoulder, stabbing through the flesh and twisting, slowly hurting each tendon and nerve in Matthew's upper left side almost sadistically.

Giving out a cry of pain, his legs collapsed and he held his shoulder tightly with his other hand, wincing and breathing heavily. Pain taking over all of his senses and darkness starting to override his vision.

"Matthieu!" Francis screamed, gathering him into his arms as he began to hyperventilate till-

Francis seemed to change slightly. The color in his hair and eyes seemed to slip away, becoming a crystalline white. His skin became almost transparent as he held Matthew close, his tears freezing, like ice. The air around them seemed to practically freeze... Almost to a stand still... Till the air around them began to swirl violently, cold and harsh, like a blizzard. Toris was pushed away as the blizzard surrounded Matthew, Ivan, and Francis, the Canadian starting to feel freezing, blurring snow surround them violently.

The wind howled as Francis' hair elongated and shifted, wrapping around Matthew's wound and healing it gently, as the rest of the hair viciously wrapped around Ivan and began to choke him.  
_"I... Will... KILL YOU!"_ Francis shrieked, his voice now sounding composed of thousands of voices, like a howling choir of screams, _"You COWARD! How dare you harm my only LOVE!"_

With that, Matthew heard a terror-filled, heart and mind-wrenching _scream_, as Ivan's strangled cries rang out, and Francis' hair began to violently choke him, the hair now weaved with icy barbed stems as ice colored, pale roses seemed to appear in the rage filled boy's hair.

"Stop!" Matthew yelled, sitting up and gripping Francis' arm. "Stop! Don't kill him!-!"

"_He shall DIE! I will damn him! Damn him and his family, kill him, shred him to pieces-"_ Francis wailed, rage very apparent on his features as the wind picked up more, almost drowning out Ivan's screams.

"It was my fault!" Matthew tried to call over the howling wind and calm him down. "I was being stupid! And jealous! I hurt him first, he was just retaliating! He doesn't deserve to die!"

"_That worthless piece of trash drew BLOOD!"_ Francis screeched, and, from what Matthew noticed, his teeth seemed sharper as they snapped, his eyes now a pupiless, glowing white.

"But do you really want blood on _your _hands!" Matthew yelled desperately, placing his hands on either side of Francis' face. "Look at me! I'm fine now!-!"

"_He has the blood of a traitor, and your blood on his hands!" _Francis snarled, grinding his teeth and howling, _"He shall pay"_

"I don't want him to pay!" Matthew yelled, beginning to be frustrated. "I don't want death of any kind! Please, just stop!"

Matthew heard the screams being reduced to whimpers as Francis' hair retreated and the wind died down slightly, as Francis demanded, a reptilian tongue slithering out and flicking dangerously, _"Why not?!"_

"Because!" Matthew shouted, pausing slightly before looking through the snow and wind to Toris. "... Do you really want to take away someone else's love?"

Toris stared almost ferally back at Matthew, watching him try to calm the raging storm he had accidently created.  
The winds died down more as Francis replied stonily, "_Non."_

"Then stop!" Matthew cried desperately, frowning at him. "Please... Francis, mon amour..."

Francis nodded slowly, his teeth becoming dull again, his tongue turning back to normal, and his pupils returning, yet still looking like a frosted image of Matthew's love.  
Francis stared into his eyes, breathing deeply and saying nothing, his hair weakly twitching.

Matthew looked him over helplessly, frowning. He had caused this... if he hadn't felt such a stupid emotion in the first place, he wouldn't be like this... Matthew felt tears come to his eyes before he hugged Francis and buried his head into his neck. "I'm so sorry, Francis..."

Blinking in surprise, his tumbling, long, now accidental floor-length sea of hair began to regain its blonde, golden, and straw coloring. Francis' eyes became cerulean again as his pale skin became healthier once more. Lastly, the icey roses retreated, slithering back under Francis' clothes to God knows where.  
"M-Matthieu..." Francis breathed in surprise, beginning to tremble violently.

"Sorry..." he mumbled again, closing his eyes as he felt hot tears escape him, landing on the trembling boy's cold skin.

Francis blinked slowly, and began to cry as well, sobbing loudly and clutching to Matthew as if he was his only pillar of strength.

Neither of them seemed to remember Ivan, who was still lying on the ground, unconscious from all the choking he had undergone. Nor did their minds remind them of Toris, who was kneeling at the thick boy's side.

Toris simply gathered Ivan and left, not uttering a word as Francis continued to sob loudly, soon finding himself laying down with his head on Matthew's lap.

Said boy started stroking his hair, sighing as he wiped his tears with his other hand. He didn't really know what to say after witnessing Francis go into such a state...

Francis, on the other hand, found that he couldn't summon words, and stared blankly and lifelessly up into Matthew's eyes, in an almost dead like state.

Matthew smiled wistfully at him before taking his hand and cupping Francis' chin. "It's... nice to know you care, so much..." he finally said, grimacing a little.

Francis said nothing and continued to stare, tears flowing from his dead stare.

"..." Matthew sighed before dropping his hand. "I wonder if Toris will want to train me anymore..." he asked himself, frowning slightly. Probably not, after what he had caused Francis to almost do to Ivan...

Francis said nothing, lips just parting slightly as he gasped out almost breathlessly, eyes glowing white as he warned, almost prophetically, _"Beware as your enemies come near. They may gather, and crush you if you do not take them o-out one at a-a time..."_ ending with a loud gasp, Francis writhed slightly as his eyes shined more before dimming, seemingly knocking the poor boy unconscious as he laid in Matthew's arms silently, breathing evenly with his eyes open, as if he had fallen asleep that way.

Matthew cradled him in his arms for a bit as he looked up to the sky in thought. What did he mean by that...? What enemies? Surely he couldn't mean Toris...? Ivan seemed more likely... But he had thought they considered him a friend of sorts, or at least acquaintances.

… They may gather... and crush him? He bit his lip slightly, trying to think of any other enemies he could have made. And then, the last part, taking them out one at a time... He paled slightly, hugging Francis tighter. "But I don't want to take anyone out..." he said to himself, closing his eyes as his face contorted with sorrow. "No one deserves to die..."

Receiving no answers, he sighed, carrying Francis out of the hall and off, to somewhere where he could possibly find answers...  
Such as Alfred and Arthur's room? Oh, but where was that located...

Well, he hadn't done some aimless searching in a while. Might as well get into the habit again.

~!~!~!~

Alfred sighed as he gazed into a bathroom mirror, pursing his lips and applying light lipstick to his lips with a cheerful grin as Arthur stood in the background.

"I still don't understand why you're applying _makeup_," the British boy commented, frowning and running a hand through his hair.

"Because I want to look pretty when I go on my date with you~" Alfred sang, uncapping a tube of eyeliner and applying it to one eye almost exaggeratedly.  
Arthur sighed a bit, walking up behind Alfred and raising an eyebrow at his mirror counterpart. "But you look just fine without that bloody gunk on your face..."

"Yeah, but I want you to look better than me when we go out for candlelit Louisianan food!" Alfred replied, clapping his hand and taking out some eyeshadow, beginning to give himself a smoky eye, "Even though you always look better than me, my little crumpet~"

Arthur groaned, covering up his eyes. "You sound just like Francis..." he complained, rolling his eyes. "Once I became his friend he tried everything he could so I would look "better" than him. It's stupid..."

Alfred frowned, and inquired, "How would he do that?"

"The same thing you're doing," Arthur said waving his hand carelessly. "Applying horrid amounts of makeup and wearing disastrous clothes."

Alfred sniffled, turning and showing off his gaudy, fish-tailed red dress as he asked softly, "I look horrible?"

"... Well," Arthur started, looking away awkwardly. He sighed before saying, "Alfred, it was _you_ who I fell in love with, not what you look like... I just want you to go as yourself."

Alfred stared for a moment, before laughing and gesturing, "Alright! You have to unwrap me, though!"

Arthur stared at him for a minute before blushing. "B-but... I didn't wrap you up in the first place..." he offered weakly, taking a step out of the bathroom.

Alfred shot him an intense look and replied eerily, "I know, but since we're engaged~"

Blushing more, Arthur jumped a little when his back hit the edge of the doorframe. Damn, he had only missed the exit by a few inches... "Y-yes, well, back in the old days one would not partake in any sort of activities before they were actually married, you see, so -"

"Take off the damn dress before I sit on you," Alfred interrupted threateningly, gazing at him icily.

"... But..." Arthur tried again, but after seeing Alfred's eyes flash dangerously, he sighed and walked towards him, asking weakly, "Where's the zipper...?"

Alfred turned around cheerfully, showing him the zipper on the back and thinking with a snicker, _I knew this would work~_

Sometimes, it was a wonder how Alfred didn't give away huge, important secrets or his witch origins any sooner than a few hours ago...

"You're enjoying this too much," Arthur told him, rolling his eyes as he slowly unzipped the zipper, not wanting to ruin the dress since it did look fairly expensive.

"Oh~ I am, honey buns~" Alfred crooned, lashes fluttering, "I can't resist teasing you, sugar~"

Blushing a bit, Arthur slipped the top part off of Alfred's shoulders, shaking slightly. "You can take it from here, right?" he asked hopefully.

"Nope~" Alfred snickered, tapping his heels against the tile with a smirk, "Besides~ Aren't I your barbie doll? You have to undress and dress me-"

Swallowing a bit, Arthur asked, "Please tell me you're at least wearing knackers..."

"Knackers~?" Alfred inquired, grinning with glee, "What are those~?"

"Damn it, Alfred!" Arthur snapped, blushing more. "You know what I mean!-!"

"What do you mean, sugar~?" Alfred inquired more, practically grinning like a madman, "I'm so confus-"  
Suddenly, they heard their flat door open.

Arthur felt like a thermometer that went all the way to the top and even cracked as he quickly put the shoulders of the dress back on Alfred and zipped him up, calling, "J-just a minute!-!"

"Ah, so this _is_ your dorm room!" he heard Matthew's voice call out. "It took me forever to find!"

Their dorm room seemed a bit more modern compared to Matthew and Francis'. The pretty, stained glass windows were covered with navy blue drapes, and candles were lit around the room. Book shelves, filled with books, manga, DVDs, video games, and tons of technological memorabilia, even ancient-looking computers, filled over shelves and displays of the living room, which led into the kitchen. To his left was a small hallway into what he presumed would be a bedroom and bathroom areas.

He was a little surprised when he heard a distant door close shut as Arthur walked out of the hallway looking incredibly nervous. "H-hello, there, what are you doing here, may I - why is Francis unconscious?"

"Oh, well," Matthew started shifting uncomfortably and sighing. "It's a long story..."

"Would you like to sit down on the couch?" Arthur suggested before going over to his kitchen. "I'll make us a pot of tea-"

Suddenly, he heard a boisterous laugh as heels clacked across the kitchen tile, and an odd, surprising sight met the two: Alfred in a frilly, anime maid outfit with cat ears and a tail... Fake, thankfully.  
Alfred stood, adjusting a hair band and giving a curtsy. His skirt went down to his knees, with frilly stockings stopping below the knee. The maid skirts were black, with a white, frilly apron tied around his waist and going down to the end of the skirt. In the back, tying the apron strings, was a bow with long, flowing ribbon attached to it. The dress had long, complicated, sleeves that cut off below the elbow, the cuff fluttering out as Alfred pressed his white gloved hands together. The high collar caressed his jaw, and a bow with a British flag jem in the center accented the chest while Alfred's neck jangled, a bell choker attached to it.  
"May I serve you, my masters~?" Alfred meowed excitedly, curtsying more as his black high heels tapped the tile happily.

Arthur groaned and ran a hand down his face. "Yes, Alfred," he said evenly, "You can start investigating Francis with your witchy powers, or whatever you call them, since he's unconscious right now. That should make things a little easier."

Alfred gave a frown, pouting as he asked, "Do I haaaaaaaaave to?"

"Yes," Arthur said decisively, looking over at him and grinning. "Or else I might just have time to drag another bed in here..."

Alfred squeaked in fear, nodding, "OkokokokokoOKAY! I'll look into him!"

Arthur chuckled a little before walking up to Matthew and starting to take Francis from him. "Here, we'll set him on the bed in our room so that Alfred can do his thing in private while we have a little chat, all right?"

Matthew nodded slowly, but pulled his love away from Arthur's grip, not really wanting him to hold Francis... "Um, I'll carry him there," he said with a smile before walking over to where he presumed their room was.

Arthur chuckled a bit more, smirking. "Don't want anyone else touching him, eh?"

Matthew blushed, turning to him, "Th-that's not it!-!"

"Oh, relax," Arthur told him, laughing before leaning in and holding a hand to the side of his mouth, as if to block what he was saying from the other conscious person in the room. "Alfy gets like that, too~"

Francis' eyes suddenly fluttered open as he announced, sounding unamused, "I heard that..."

Both Matthew and Arthur jumped a bit as they stared down at him. "Francis!" Matthew exclaimed, smiling. "I'm glad you're awake... you had me quite worried."

Francis groaned, closing his eyes and rolling closer to Matthew's chest, mumbling, "I feel sick..."

"Oh dear," Arthur said, frowning. "What happened to you, old friend?"

"That's what I need to talk to you about..." Matthew said, sighing.

"I kind of whited out," Francis explained timidly, shaking as he closed his eyes and grasped for Arthur's hand, "And I can't remember m-much..."

Arthur gripped his unsteady hand and looked at him sadly. "Alfred's going to have a look at you," he said to him, looking over at his dressed up boyfriend who just nodded. "Okay?"

Francis nodded, sniffling and hugging Arthur's hand against his face, shuddering, "A-Alright..."

Gazing up, he looked into Matthew's eyes, rather lost. The boy just bit his lip before leaning down and kissing his forehead, taking him to their bedroom and laying him on the soft bed, Alfred following close behind.

Alfred was dressed in what seemed to be ceremonial wear for Umbrian Witches, and stood in front of him, blood like markings painted on his face from his eyes, and a masquerade mask surrounding his eyes.  
"I'm ready," Alfred announced, shifting uncomfortably.

Arthur walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling encouragingly at him. "You'll do great, Alfry," he said before kissing his cheek and exiting the room, motioning for Matthew to do the same. He turned around to peer into the room at the last second, though, seeing that Francis still looked completely lost, and not as bright as he usually was...

Yet Arthur took Matthew's hand and guided him out of the room, leaving their lovers together, alone.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Arthur asked gently as he lead him to the couch and sat him down. "I'm all ears," he said pointing to his head before grinning. "And eyebrows."

Matthew chuckled a bit, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "Well..." Matthew started, taking a deep breath before launching into his tale from what he perceived as the very beginning - when Francis had been possessed by that _thing_. He told him all about said encounter, making sure to give as much detailed information as he could remember. He then started telling him all about how Francis had completely lost himself earlier and had almost killed Ivan, although he conveniently left out what had started that particular chain of events...

"Hm..." Arthur said thoughtfully. Halfway through he had decided to sit down, since the tale was going on for quite awhile, and now he was just staring at the floor as he held a hand up to his chin. "I'm not really sure about the possession," he said finally before looking up at him, "I'll have to look into that. But as for that little thing with Toris, that's his ice form."

"... Ice form?" Matthew echoed, tilting his head slightly in curiosity.

"Yes," Arthur said, nodding. "He gets like that whenever someone he loves is in danger-"

Suddenly, Arthur's explanation was cut off as they heard a scream, coming from what sounded like...  
"Alfred!" the two in the living room yelled in unison, running towards the bedroom. Matthew reached it first, slamming the door open and gasping from the sight he saw inside. Arthur soon joined him, freezing in shock as his eyes widened.

Francis' body was glowing, rapunzel hair extended out and flowing onto the bedroom floor as what seemed like hundreds of roses were weaved and wrapped around his now naked body, binding him down to the bed like it was his own personal coffin. The color from his hair was that stunning, silver white again while his eyes glowed, pupiless, yet golden this time. His lips were parted as a spiritual aura surrounded him, it seemed. The roses throbbed and glowed, like his interlacing veins, some of the blooms weaved into his hair and others a tangled, vicious mess on his body. In a twisted way, he seemed to look like Sleeping Beauty... Except for the glowing eyes.  
Alfred on the other hand, was sprawled on his back, dazed, and mumbling a mysterious language weakly under his breath.

Surrounding the room, filling it with a tranquil yet magnificent, overpowering sound was the whispers of voices, almost like a choir of different tones and ranges mixed together, as Francis' parted mouth moved to sing with them, his glowing eyes just "staring" up at the ceiling.  
To Matthew and Arthur... It sounded like they had reached... Nirvana. An eternal Heaven, or a calming peace.

And yet they both knew that they had to get them out of that state. _Fast_.

"What do we do?" Matthew asked, turning to Arthur, who seemed at a loss for words.

"How should I know?" he said, looking at them helplessly. "This is more complicated than what I'm used to! All witch magic is!"

Alfred gasped from his spot on the floor, choking and trying to communicate to them, but he was stuck in that odd, angelic language.

The voices around them chanted more, an organ seemingly playing mysteriously with them along with proud, beautiful horns.

"Is there any way to translate what's being said?" Matthew asked, taking a step forward only to be blocked by him.

"I wouldn't go near them," Arthur warned, giving him a stern look. "Considering Alfred's own state, I'm presuming anyone who touches Francis right now will end up like that... And yes, there's a way to translate it, but we don't have the materials."

_Touch, and you-you'll go insane... Arthur..._ Alfred's voice thought weakly, calling out like a plea to his love, _H-Humans cannot... Handle... Handle-_

"Hang on, Alfred," Arthur muttered, feeling like his heart was starting to break. What was he supposed to do...? He couldn't touch either of them, and his magic was not up to this level yet... _Alfred_, he thought, closing his eyes and focusing on him, _Can you tell me what I can do?_

_T-There is a potion... Hid-hid- _his voice began to tune in and out, like a bad radio signal, as he gasped for air, writhing in pure agony.

Grinding his teeth, Arthur sat down and got into a meditation stance, trying to call out to him. _Hidden where?_

_C-Chest-in-room-I-I- ALLAR-AVAVAGO- _Alfred screamed, his mind cutting him off painfully from Arthur, like the blade of a guillotine upon the neck of its victim.

Snapping his eyes open, Arthur gasped as he stared at Alfred, grimacing. "Matthew," he said urgently, standing up, "Help me look for a chest in... room? What _room?_" Arthur yelled at himself for not understanding before shaking his head. Suddenly, he had an idea as he thought of that secret gun room Alfred had shown him earlier... "Matthew, I'll be back, I think I know what room he's talking about."

"Wh-what do you want me to do, then?" Matthew asked, looking at both of them and feeling his heart sink.

"Talk to them," Arthur told him before starting to leave. "Maybe you can help them out of wherever they are - you are a "chosen one" after all."

"Chosen one?" Matthew asked, but he would never hear what he meant as Arthur left to go to wherever he needed to go.

The voices began to sing louder, twisting and curling suddenly around Matthew, as if trying to choke him. He clawed at his throat, finding it becoming harder to breathe. "No..." he muttered, looking at them through blurred, watery eyes now. "Snap out of it!" he cried, already knowing that wouldn't work.

Suddenly, he heard Francis voice ring desperately above them, _T-The curse-Oh God, MATTHIEU-!_

"Francis..." Matthew whispered pathetically, staring at him. His thoughts contained so much pain, confusion, downright hopelessness... He just wanted to help, but he couldn't, he wasn't magical... he wasn't a witch, he wasn't even a magician!

Suddenly, a warm feeling entered Matthew's heart, coursing through his veins as a voice... That sounded like his own, except a bit older, rang in his ears, _Don't give up!_

Clenching his fists, he walked towards Francis despite Arthur's warning, immediately feeling resistance and almost being blown back by it. Steeling himself, he glared at whatever invisible force was surrounding them as he pushed through it painstakingly. Every time he closed his eyes, he could feel the force wrapping around him, digging into his skin, and trying to bring him pain, enough to stop him, or black him out, or deter-

_BABALON!(Wicked!)_

_BAGHIE!(Fury!)_

_BATOHRA!(Righteous!)_

The voices sang louder, Matthew being able to understand their words, as he continued, feeling almost deafened by their cold fury. But as he shuffled through, he couldn't help but ask himself... why was this _thing_ wanting to push him back so much? It would have no reason to - according to Arthur it would just turn anyone insane, like Alfred... So why was it pushing him away, unless he could do something?

_CNILA!(Blood!) _

That horrible word... They began to wail and chant it furiously, as if viciously wanting it from someone.

… From Francis, Matthew realized, staring at all of the roses and clenching his fists. He struggled through it some more, until eventually he pushed into a calm part, almost falling to the floor from the sudden lack of pressure. Looking all around him, he saw vicious-looking shapes that almost formed faces, but not quite, swirling around and around in a circle, surfing on an unseen wind. He could vaguely pick out roses, and thorns among them as well, and now he could hear that horrid word ring even louder, sounding even more sinister and _thirsty_.

_I must be in the eye of the storm..._ Matthew thought to himself as he stood up, covering his ears to try and block the sound. It didn't work, of course, so he continued to walk towards Francis, who was still covered in vicious roses that almost seemed to snarl and snap at him as he got closer...

In their tangle though, he saw the hilt of a blade trying to reach out for him desperately, being strangled by the roses in an attempt to push it back down.

Clenching his teeth, Matthew surged forward, the roses attacking and scratching him up as he did so. He winced in pain as each tiny thorn felt like a knife against his skin, but he knew what to do... or, at least, he had a feeling he knew what to do now...

_Kiss him._ That voice from before commanded, reminding him of the voice... That said the same thing the first time he kissed Francis... It seemed to sound like...

Him. It was Matthew's voice, yet older, more aged-

Could it be like the older vision of Francis he had in his mind as well?

He shook his head, deciding to worry about all of that later. Right now, he had to rescue his princess...

He leaned forward, the roses jumping on his face and wrapping around his neck to choke him as he got closer to Francis' face. He tore at all of the foliage, cutting his hands up in the process, but managing to get them off of his neck and face long enough to be able to place a gentle kiss on the blonde's lips.

Matthew heard thousands of terrified screams echo around him as he did so, the roses lurching and trying to strangle his body viciously, howling in pure rage. Crying out himself with pain, he reached forward to grip the bed sheet, trying to keep himself in one spot. It felt like his body was slowly being crushed, ripped apart, mangled, destroyed...

_GRASP THE SWORD!_ the voice yelled, desperately trying to give Matthew strength. He stared at the hilt, his vision incredibly smeared from all of the pain, but with a last act of strength he reached forward and grabbed it, trying to pull it out of him, much to the discontentment of the roses who attacked his hand even more viciously than any other part of him, emitting earsplitting screeches in an attempt to make him weak again.

But he never faltered. And soon, the sword was pulled out completely.

The flowers screamed, seizing up and stiffening, as a powerful frost ripped through them and shattered each one violently. Their screams continued as they dispersed and died... But Matthew knew it was only temporary. They wouldn't be back now, but in the future...? It was almost certain. Unless they found a way to break this horrible curse...

He saw Francis eyes close and then open again, an icy blue as he stared up voidlessly, pupils dilated.

"... Francis..." Matthew muttered, reaching forward and placing the back of his fingers on his cheek.

"M-Matt... Hieu.." Francis choked out, gasping for breath as his eyes darted about in terror.

"It's okay now," Matthew told him, leaning forward to hug him. "You're safe..." _For now_, he added to himself dismally.

Slowly, he moved his stiffened arms around Matthew, the other noting how weak his grasp was, before falling back upon the bed spread with a painful gasp. To Matthew, it looked like he was hyperventilating.

Biting his lip, he stared down at him helplessly. He wanted to take away all of his pain, all of his turmoil, anything and everything bad that plagued his life since the moment he had been forced to endure this. He wanted to give him the happy life he so deserved, the one he craved and would do anything to get...

Clenching his fists, Matthew looked down to the floor, shaking slightly. He was determined... he was determined to give Francis everything he wanted, no matter what it took...

But as for right now... he couldn't help him. Since you couldn't really stop someone from hyperventilating, or feeling weak...

Suddenly he felt Francis grip his hand, and pull it shakily so that it was above his own heart and reached his own hand out, placing it over Matthew's heart as well.

"Wa...Warm..." Francis breathed weakly, staring up at Matthew, "I... Like... Warm..."

Matthew smiled down at him, feeling tears escape his eyes as he leaned down and hugged him again, wanting to give him as much warmth as he could.

Matthew felt the blonde's body temperature start to return to normal, as if he was thawing Francis. Said boy's pale skin began to gain back some color, but not much, as yet his hair remained white, and his eyes ice blue.

In Matthew's opinion, the sun like colors Francis always had physically seemed to almost wax away, becoming like that of the moon, cold and radiating. And he couldn't help but feel sorry for him... just what had he gone through to get like that? And was it permanent? Cold colors didn't suit Francis... not at all.

"Francis," Matthew mumbled, staring into his eyes that seemed almost devoid of any soul...

"M-Matt...Hieu..." Francis whispered brokenly, his face stoic and emotionless as he hung limply, like a rag doll now, in Matthew's arms.

Clenching his teeth, Matthew felt sorrow-filled tears leave him. He hated this, how despondent Francis was...! "Please," he begged, leaning forward, "tell me you still feel something..." He closed his eyes. "Show me that you can still smile and stay so positive...! That you can still love, like you always do... _Please!_"

Francis stared silently for a moment, before replying softly, desperately trying to grasp his hand, "I...Love...You..."

Salty tears slowly dripped onto the bed as Matthew shook his head a little, never taking his eyes off of Francis. It sounded like he wanted to mean the words, but couldn't make the emotion sound right... It was like there was a block on his words, warping them so that they came out strangled and quiet.

In a slightly desperate attempt to try and fix him somewhat, Matthew leaned forward and kissed him again. It worked for quite a few things... _So please, please work for this too... _he begged, as if trying to plead with whatever magic was present.

Suddenly, Matthew felt the mouth under his heat up, as if coming to life. Matthew felt a hand clutch his own tightly, and the body of his love radiate with more heat, more energy.

Sniffling, Matthew smiled into the kiss before deepening it, hoping that he would wake up even more.

He heard a gasp into his mouth, and a hand clutch his cheek, caressing it gently, as life and energy seemed to pour back into Francis once more. Said boy's long tendrils of hair slipping up and caressing Matthew's body tenderly.

Matthew laughed into the kiss before sitting up, smiling at him as still more tears fell, but this time from happiness. "Thank goodness you're yourself again..." he whispered gratefully, staring into the familiar blue eyes that shone with the warmth he loved.

Francis teared up as well, nodding and smiling, opening his mouth to speak when:

No words left his mouth.

Matthew laughed a little, shaking his head. "You can't speak again...?"

Francis rubbed his eyes and nodded, shivering and curling up into a ball.

Matthew hugged him and laughed, kissing his cheek. "That's okay, as long as you stay warm and happy I'm fine with anything."

Francis peeked out, like a frightened child, and pointed at the corners of his own mouth, and made it into a frown with saddened eyes.

Matthew tilted his head slightly, not really understanding what he meant. "You're sad?" he asked.

Francis nodded, tears flowing out of his eyes as he sniffled.

"And why is that?" Matthew asked, frowning and grasping his hands, entwining their fingers.

Francis gazed at the cuts on Matthew's body, and he sobbed more.

Matthew blinked at him for a second before finally taking notice of all the damage the roses had caused. Cuts lined all the way across his body, tearing up his clothes and marking up his skin. A lot of them had scabbed over already, but many others were still deep and bleeding...

"I, I'll be fine..." Matthew tried to assure Francis, smiling at him. "They aren't bad, they don't even hurt that much..." he lifted up his arm and looked at them, starting to notice a very disjointed pattern that the cuts formed... it was almost as if they were trying to make Matthew's own body have thorns, with how jaggedly they call connected. Despite himself, Matthew started tracing them, cradling his arm to his chest. "It's kind of interesting..." he said in a hushed tone, smiling up at him more. "So don't feel bad..."

Francis gasped in horror and began to panic again, Matthew hearing sharp, echoing screams in his mind that seemed to be coming from the temporary mute's own, that Matthew could only guess now felt haunted and twisted at the moment.

He leaned forward and kissed him again, hoping that would banish the voices. Or, at least, distract Francis so that he didn't hear them anymore. He briefly wondered how he could hear them, too, though...

Francis trembled more though, and sobbed as he clutched Matthew, his movements jerky as he whipped around blindly.

Matthew separated from him, starting to feel helpless again. How was he supposed to help something that was internal...! It was impossible!-!

Finally it seemed, Arthur had arrived in the room, and saw Francis in his panicked state and Matthew in a helpless one. Not to mention Alfred still lying on the floor...

Without missing a beat, he walked forward and uncapped the antidote bottle he had found in a chest far off to the side inside Alfred's secret room. Pouring some into the cap, he gripped Francis' chin before pouring it into his mouth. "Swallow," he told him sternly, as if he thought he'd spit it out.

Francis tried shaking his head, attempting to spit it out furiously in fear.

"Damn it, Francis!" Arthur swore, clamping his chin shut. "It's good for you! The voices should go away!-!"

The blonde's hair slithered up to choke Arthur, but pathetically wrapped around his legs instead.

Arthur gave a frustrated sound before grabbing Matthew's hands and placing them on Francis' chin. "Here, make sure he drinks that - I have my own idiot to deal with! Though _he_ might actually drink the stuff."

He stalked off then to feed the antidote to Alfred, who was twitching on the floor, his eyes still glowing slightly as his mouth barely moved in the angelic language.

Francis gave Matthew a terror filled look and tried to writhe and escape his grasp, but felt it tighten roughly instead.

"Please, Francis, drink it," Matthew practically begged, frowning. "Please... I don't want you to be in such pain anymore..."

Francis stared for a moment, and before he knew it, swallowed the mysterious liquid with a gulp.

Alfred, still laying on the floor, didn't react to Arthur's touch as the Brit bent down, with the bottle in hand. Instead, his lips moved, almost as if in silent prayer.

Creasing his eyebrows at him sadly, Arthur poured some of the antidote into the cap before pouring it into his mouth. "Please drink it... it's the antidote you told me about, remember?"

Suddenly, Arthur felt a hand grip his arm harshly, as Alfred's glowing eyes turned a dark, violent red and blood began to spill from them. Gasping, as if possessed, a booming, twisted choir of torture souls screamed from Alfred's open mouth:

_Judgement shall soon pass! This contamination shall be ridden of! IALPON!(BURN!) IALPON!(BURN!) The sin shall burn! IALPON!_

And with that, the voices stopped, and Alfred's mouth closed with a wheeze, his eyes turning back to normal as the blood hardened on his face. The harsh grip on Arthur's arm also ceasing.

"... Alfred..." the Brit whispered, feeling water edge his eyes as he started to rub the dried blood off of his eyes. Of course... Alfred's body was infused with demons, being touched by something angelic would already affect him; the fact that it was so powerful to make him actually speak the language... it probably started a war inside him.

But that last part, what he said... who had been speaking? The angel half leaving, or the demon part still laying inside?

"ILA-PRT(Flames)..." Alfred mumbled, trying to open his blood caked eyes as he weakly groped about, almost like a new born, "ILS(Thou)... Arthur..."

"I'm here," Arthur told him, sitting him up and hugging him tightly. "I'll always be here..."

"You... Have to learn my magic..." Alfred whispered, practically whimpering, "You need stronger spells... You need it, you do you-"

"Then you have to teach me," Arthur told him, looking into his eyes seriously. "Teach me so I can help you... I promise I'll do anything I can to get stronger."

"Are you... Of a magic clan like I am?" Alfred asked, hugging Arthur for support as she shook, "I am of the Umbra Clan of Witches... When I was trying to find the sorceress in Francis, my spell backfired as the curse used it's defense to-"

"Hurt you..." Arthur interrupted, frowning more. "And... I'm not from a strong clan, Alfred... we're fairly new."

"What is your clan name?" Alfred asked, shaking Arthur slightly and giving him a serious gaze.

"Val-Zale..." Arthur told him, biting his lip. He couldn't even remember the last time he had said his clan name...

"I know of them," Alfred commented, closing his hardened eyes, "Working class magicians, which means you are from an all Male clan of "witches" while I am from an all female one - an aristocratic, all female one."

Arthur stared at him for a minute before grinning weakly, commenting in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, "Well, that explains awkward witch puberty..."

"I am their commander - a male that is born every one thousand years." Alfred interjected smoothly, opening his slightly hardened eyes, "The only male of the clan."

"... Alfred," Arthur said, staring into his eyes. "How much power do you have, exactly?"

"Enough to possibly tear the Heavens apart." He answered quietly, gazing down at the floor, his gaze softening as tears began to flood his vision.

Arthur placed his hands on either side of Alfred's face, wiping his tears with his thumbs as he leaned in. "Don't be sad about that..." Arthur said, smiling slightly. "I always knew you were special..."

Alfred sniffled, admitting quietly, "But I don't want to have to kill in order to stay a-alive..." closing his eyes, he added, "If I don't slay angels, my soul will be devoured."

"... Then we'll find a way to fix it," Arthur said, his eyes set. "We can do this, Alfred, together... I know we can. We'll help you."

Alfred nodded, closing the space between them with a weak kiss as his tears slid down upon Arthur's face, "I-I trust you then, that we will."

Closing his eyes, Arthur's tears joined Alfred's as he kissed him back, wrapping his arms around his neck in a tight hug.

Francis intently watched, having laid down and rested his head upon Matthew's lap, as the Canadian tenderly stroked his long, floor length, thicket of boy had only heard their conversation, but he could already feel his heart breaking from their desperation... their want to fix such a big problem... Looking down at Francis, he couldn't help but think about how both of them had so much to deal with... Both so broken, and needing to be fixed...

So, who better than the one they loved, and who loved them in return to put them back together again?

"I think we've had enough excitement for today..." Matthew said into the still air, earning the attention of the others in the room.

"I agree," Arthur said, looking at him seriously before frowning. "But, Matthew, you still have sword-training..."

Francis stiffened, quickly ripping the Rose Blade from Matthew's grasp. Getting up, Francis backed away, sword held out defensively and with expertise as his gaze turned stilted and frozen.

"... Francis...:?" Matthew asked cautiously, slowly getting up and approaching him, arms held out in front of him. "What's wrong...? Put the sword down..."

Arthur grimaced as he was about to say something, when Francis did what he was going to warn: he began to swallow the sword, throat rippling sickeningly like a boa constrictor as he did so.

Matthew stared at the sight in horror, trembling as he fell to his knees, his stomach roiling in disgust. The scene of his throat... moving, waving, shifting, _bending_ to the sword's mass replaying over and over in his mind and making him feel woozy as he imagined how that must have f-felt... all thick, like you're going to choke, blocking up your throat and... and... Oh, God, not again...

The rest of his body soon joined the floor, his eyes rolled into the back of his head as his breathing turned to a steady, dormant rhythm.

Francis finished with a sickening gulp, effectively sheathing the sword back inside himself as he shook violently.

"You probably could have chosen a better time to do that..." Arthur said quietly, sighing as he glanced down at Matthew.

Shaking his head, Francis glared at Arthur, then hissed at him.

"What are you mad at me for!" he said just under a yell. "I'm not the one who made Matthew _faint_ again!"

"Your stupid sword training - I didn't want him to get more scars!" Francis yelled, voice returning as his eyes burned with a surprising, new, fire-like energy within them that shocked Arthur. Francis just seemed so - so ferocious!

"... I'm sorry," he whispered, swallowing slightly and not wanting to anger the boy any further. "In that case, let's go get him cleaned up..."

"Bien!" Francis snapped, his hair shifting and wriggling till it enclosed Arthur, rather menacingly as Francis fumed. Whatever he had done, he must have made the boy very mad...

Arthur pulled at the hair around him, glaring at him. "What good is getting angry at me!" he tried to reason with him. "Matthew's still laying on the floor and probably bleeding!-!"

"You insisted to have Alfred investigate me!" Francis cried out, his hair wrapping tightly against Arthur as Alfred stared in surprise, "You could have killed mon amour!"

"Oh please!" Arthur yelled as he pulled at the hair more desperately. "As if Matthew wasn't in enough danger already with being your duelist! I was only trying to help you, but you never seem to get that, do you!? What if this had worked, huh?" Arthur glared up at him, grinding his teeth, "Then you'd be humming a much different tune!"

Francis was about to retort viciously when Alfred exclaimed, "I think I know what it was!"

They both turned and blinked at him, the anger slowly ebbing from the room. "... You do?" Arthur asked, smiling at him. "That's great! What is it?"

Alfred gulped, shaking and replying with a sharp precision of underlying fear in his voice, "The greatest enemy of all witch clans; the Lumen Sages."

"... What's that?" Arthur asked softly, frowning. They already sounded extremely powerful...

Alfred stuttered quickly, "B-Believers in Jubileus, Goddess of Light."

"And that's bad because...?"

"T-They kill humans and form their souls into an-angels!" Alfred squeaked in pure terror.

"..." It took Arthur a while to understand why Alfred sounded terrified, but eventually he thought he understood. "So, these sages harness the power of angels, instead of demons...?"

Nodding his head soundlessly, Alfred then exploded into fear filled sobs, curling into a ball and rocking back and forth.

Arthur quickly put an arm around his back comfortingly, sighing and turning to Francis. "Well, at least we can start studying angel magic now, and try to find a way to break it that way..."

Francis nodded dimly, staring blankly before he, too, joined Matthew in a pile of comatose bodies on the floor.

Arthur sighed as he looked at Alfred, who was still rocking back and forth, and then at the two bodies lying limply on the floor...

"Why am I always the one who has to clean everything up?" he asked himself, running a hand through his hair.


End file.
